


Passive MakeOut

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Series: Team Anti-Hero? [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Deadpool (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Alley Blow Jobs, Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Infuriates Wade, Condoms, Covered in Come, Denial of Feelings, Doggy Style, Friends With Benefits, Hot Sex, Kinky, Language, Lube, M/M, Making Out, Mindfuck, Neck Kissing, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexy Times, Steamy Sex, Wade Has Issues, Wade's A Little Shit, Wade's Mindfuckery, Wall Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Weasel's Bar, fuck hydra, puppy dog eyes, sex sex sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’d say it’s not really a good idea, but I haven’t been making the best decisions lately,” he said as he reached for his drink that had been ignored for the passed few minutes. He took a long swig and left it in his grip.</p><p>“We’re... talking about sex, right?” Wade pointed his finger back and forth between them as a gesture.</p><p>“Yes. For Christ sake! Get outta my damn bar and go fuck each other!” Weasel jumped in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write the fuck out of these two for some time, but never got around to it :D I finally made one!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I hope ya'll enjoy :)

The bar was shady and eerie, full of loud and deep voices, with threats and yelling spewing from everyone except for him. But being that the place was filled with free mercenaries and guns for hire, it didn’t surprise him in the least. They were rowdy, violent, and dangerous. If he were honest, he felt like he sort of fitted in with this crowd, the only difference being, that he wasn’t rowdy and he felt overwhelming guilt and shame from the shit he did. James tried to not let it get to him, but the more he sat in his own silence, the more self-mortification he felt, the angrier he was at himself, the more self-loathing spread through him. And by that point, he’d pick a job from the list behind the bar and get it done with efficiency and skill and make sure it was untraceable and wouldn’t get back to him. It made him feel like he was helping, in a way, helping anyone on that list. It seemed to be the only thing he was good at anymore and being paid for it was just a bonus, even if he felt wrong for taking the money. The only one that really knew what he was doing and did on the job was the barkeep, the guy everyone in the place called Weasel.

He wasn’t surprised that the guy was uneasy around him, especially when the only thing the soldier really said was names of drinks and that only lasted the first few times he showed up. He seemed to get the idea on the range of liquids he ordered and just gave him one of the two to start now, without him having to say anything. It was either a beer or whisky and he tended to go back and forth between them to keep him interested. It was like he knew to swap between them so he wouldn’t get bored of one. That just meant he was a pretty good barkeep.

James usually just walked in, sat at the bar for a few seconds, got his drink, sat in the corner, drank, did a job, drank more and then left. Maybe he tossed some money into the deadpool every now and again, but it was rare. And no one even knew him, no one recognized him or said a word to him unless they had to, and that was never. Hell, even James had his bar nickname, _MM (Mystery-man),_ on the deadpool, but he was passive to any insults or drinks that supposedly came his way from other guys to rile him up. And the fact that he was so inert to the incitement, the wind-up tactics, it seemed to irk everyone else more, _and by ‘everyone else’, he meant the barkeeps’ friend_. They were taking his disinterest as a challenge and were trying whatever they had at their disposal to annoy him, to set him off, _though it seemed to infuriate the guy that regularly sat at the bar more_. They were trying to draw him into a fight that could end badly for his opponent, without them knowing, because James wouldn’t die or get hurt. There was no way he could lose, and he wasn’t saying it from his own cocky or overconfident attitude, no, because he wasn’t cocky or overconfident. He was just stating a fact, that if he were to fight someone from this bar, they’d inevitably die or end up paying a shit-ton for hospital bills.

James pulled himself from his thoughts and stared daggers at the woman that got closer, carefully putting down a double-shot of whisky on the table ahead of him. “From Wade,” she smiled and gestured to the guy at the bar, seeing the firm, daring gaze locked on him, watching him and gauging a reaction if he gave one. He didn’t completely react. The soldier only sighed and reached for the small glass cup, downing it in one gulp and then turning it upside down on the table before going back to his beer, which was nearly finished. _He didn’t waste good whisky, especially a double,_ even if it was meant as a gesture to rile him up.

“ _Motherfucker!_ ” he heard the man shout to himself over the loud, deep laughs and yelling. It wasn’t surprising, though what seemed to grasp his attention for a mere moment was that he was using another name now. Usually it was ‘ _from Paul_ ’, or ‘ _from Franky_ ’, who were actual people in this bar. This guy really wanted him to start swinging at people. And he was sure Wade was his real name from the photos behind the bar. The pictures had names of the guys here and two were an image of Weasel and the guy that gave him the drinks to rile him up. Like he said earlier, his lack of interest seemed to annoy this Wade guy more than anyone else and he was taking him as a challenge. He was adamant on getting a fight going between him and someone else in this shabby bar. To tell the truth, it was mildly amusing to watch his attempts, it kept him distracted, though he needed to think of new things to try and get him irritated. His current methods were overused in this bar.

James looked down at his almost empty beer before taking the last gulp of it down easily, feeling the light, cold burn running down his throat. Maybe another one or two would do for the night and he’d leave, go back to his safehouse and get some sleep.

He reached out and grabbed the glass cup, turning it right side up to slot his empty beer in it before pushing himself to stand up from the bench against the corner. He stepped around the table, ignoring the few eyes that watched him cross the room. More and more of them were actually starting to get used to his presence in the bar, like he’d been there for some time and they just got over it. A few still found him wary to be around, but he was sure that was down to his lack of vocalization and conversation and his eerie silence and intimidating aura and appearance.

The soldier walked up to the bar, a few seats away from ‘Wade’ and put the glass and beer-bottle down, moving to sit down on the stool as Weasel came over, a crooked smirk on his lips.

“Keep doing what you’re doing. I love it when Wade doesn’t get what he wants,” James didn’t reply to that, he just gave one subtle nod as acknowledgement and leaned his elbow on the bartop, waiting for whatever drink he was given next. Though he would have to agree. It was entertaining to see him have an angry fit after not getting a wanted reaction out of James.

“So, what’s it gonna take to set you off!?” ‘Wade’ suddenly dropped into the seat next to him, physically facing him while James sat somewhat to the side, towards him. They were basically facing each other.

 _HYDRA..._ was what he would answer if he wanted to say something.

He just shrugged and reached out for the beer that was placed next to his hand, taking a long gulp before putting it back on the table. No one except for Weasel had ever started a conversation with him and this guy was mildly amusing, so he was thinking that it wouldn’t be so bas as to hear him out on what he has to say or ask. James didn’t really need to say anything, shrug, shake his head, and nod. That was all he could do if he didn’t want to speak.

“Just say something! Anything! Or don’t, you could hit me? Beat down one of these guys?” he gestured to the men in the bar casually. “What will it take to piss you off?” he was really frustrated about this? Why did he want him to fight so much... James didn’t actually know why this seemed to be getting to him.

And his lack of an answer just seemed to irk him more, so the soldier audibly scoffed and shook his head lightly. The expectant brow raise was questioning and James glanced between the barkeep and the guy.

“None of the drinks you keep sending me,” just because he kept quiet and to himself, it didn’t mean that he was afraid to talk. He just didn’t like to speak to people. He was really anti-social, bordering on mute to others. “You need new tactics,” he resisted the urge to wink at him. It was the typical gesture to being smug after winning something, a type of movement that went with a taunt. This was what he just did... He’d just challenged Wade. And it wasn’t unintentional. He was amused and he wanted to keep up the entertainment, that meant ‘egging him on’.

“Oh, you really don’t wanna know what’s up my sleeve,” he warned with a widening smirk and James could feel one gradually slipping onto his own features. This he definitely couldn’t remember, the faint heat growing in him from a challenge, a spark of _fun_ hitting his nerves and making his mouth move just that little bit faster than his brain.

“I think I can handle whatever you throw at-,” he struggled to resist flinching when the guy shot forward and roughly connected their faces at the lips, kissing him hard, hot and wet. He could feel the man pressing in close, probably sitting right on the edge of his seat to actually brush their chests together. James’ broadened a little, having taken a sharp breath right as he’d kissed him. He didn’t expect it, but he wasn’t some guy that was surprised by kissing. It was odd, he’d admit, but he’d never been kissed by a man. _Rumlow wasn’t a man, he was a fuckin’ rat._

He dropped back into reality when he felt a hot, wet muscle worm its way between the seams of his lips, back and forth. James had to swallow a thick lump before he almost timidly opened his mouth, just a little, before the tip of the tongue slipped in through the gap he allowed. There was a warm jolt in the pit of his stomach when the muscle came into contact with his own, Wades’ running up and pressing to his, twisting around it and angling different ways and directions. The hand that suddenly pressed to the back of his neck surprised him, holding him there in place. The guy was really getting into it, even more so than James was.

He was enjoying it that much that he was actually responding, kissing him back with more than half the vigour than Wade was giving, meaning he was actually putting some effort into this, not as much as the other man, but it was more than what he’d give to anyone else.

He just kept returning it, kissing over and over, and he’d even gently bit at his tongue, just the tip, not hard enough to bleed or form an ulcer, but enough to show that he was enjoying their current situation. He was sure that the intentions at the start of this were meant to piss him off, he was more than a little sure, but it seemed to have backfired since Wade was now leaning in even closer, the hand still gripping the back of his neck while the other firmly gripping his upper thigh, gradually getting closer to his hip. It was like he was practically intoxicated by this.

James felt his grip on his neck ease a little, his fingers moving a few inches up into his hair and threading lightly, and then tugging gently before going back to threading. He wouldn’t admit outloud that it was somewhat relaxing to have his hair tugged at and petted.

He panted a little harsher than he’d liked when Wade reluctantly pulled back for air, his eyes glazed as he stared at James, who wasn’t much better. He’d unintentionally glanced between his gaze and lips, just the once the man cursed under his breath.

“ _Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re gorgeous_ ,” he whispered and dove back in, James being ready for it this time and returned the kiss as soon as the man started. His lips were wetter and hotter than before, from the first makeout session. The hands were still where they were before, though James’ were hesitant on where to go and what to grab. So, his metal one was lightly and ghostedly placed over the hand on his thigh while the other was hanging on the hem of the guys’ jacket.

He felt the tongue slip back into his mouth, being more explorative than before and slightly more eager to be between his lips and in the hot wetness. He was really resisting the groan that wanted to slip, the pleasure he was feeling fuelling the need for it to leave his throat and become audible. He ignored it, left it there and was hoping that it would leave his lips without his say.

He really almost pouted when he pulled back again, breathing a little harsher again. James couldn’t really understand why, but he enjoyed it, the kissing, the light touching, the grip at his neck and then in his hair. Whatever this man was doing was really riling him up, but not in the way Wade had been hoping at the beginning. This was a whole different situation now. And it was almost too dangerous considering who James actually was. If HYDRA found him, Wade would be used against him and he didn’t want that.

He was being stared at, the mans’ eyes soft and still eager. The soldier swallowed, resisting the urge to lean back into the hand that was still in his hair, slowly lowering back to his neck. James didn’t want to cause trouble if he could avoid it, and he’d avoid everything if it meant HYDRA wouldn’t find him, but-...

“You’re _starting_ to piss me off,” he lied, already knowing that the man would get what he was putting down. James had a good idea on how this mans’ personality worked. He clearly wasn’t pissing him off, but it was what motivated this entire circumstance.

“I am?” he smirked. “Good. How’s ‘bout you come back to my place and I’ll _enrage_ you,” he purred the word ‘enrage’, his voice quieting to a whisper with his smirk widening even further. James like it, it sent a faint shudder up his spine and he let a smile slip onto his lips. “To no end,” he added seductively after and he couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at that.

“I’d say it’s not really a good idea, but I haven’t been making the best decisions lately,” he said as he reached for his drink that had been ignored for the passed few minutes. He took a long swig and left it in his grip.

“We’re... talking about sex, right?” Wade pointed his finger back and forth between them as a gesture.

“Yes. For Christ sake! Get outta my damn bar and go fuck each other!” James’ eyes actually shot wide open at the sudden outburst and he turned to glance at Wade, who had the same look, but with a strained grin, like he was holding back hysterical laughter. “You’re grossing out my customers!” he waved as to say ‘shoo-shoo’.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wade laughed and quickly stood, his hands going to James’ jacket to pull him up to stand too. He felt him grip his hand, the metal one, and tug him from the bar, his drink still in hand. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to have sex with a guy.

He was going to block out the shit that Rumlow put him through. As far as James was concerned, that was all with the Winter Soldier. And he wasn’t that man. If he saw that face again though, he’d kill him without a second thought. But for tonight, every thought was going to be on pleasure and sex with this man. Hopefully he wasn’t bad.

“I’m really curious to know if you’re a screamer or a pillow-biter,” Wade seemed to ask himself more than James, like a thought just came to mind and he vocalized it.

“I wouldn’t know,” he answered anyway, very honestly and casually, like he wasn’t at all bothered by saying it outloud. He’d basically just revealed what he was thinking a second ago, that he was practically new to this kind of stuff. And that seemed to hit something, because Wade stopped walking and turned to him with a blank expression.

“Are you saying you’re a virgin?” he sounded completely serious at this point, but it didn’t unnerve him. If Wade didn’t like it, then whatever, he’d leave it there and go get another drink at the bar.

“Yeah, though not to women,” he answered honestly and jolted in surprise when he was dragged into a fast eager kiss, just one quick, happy peck and the man was overly-giddy when he pulled away, a massive grin on his face.

“Www this is gonna be a butt-load of fun,” he beamed and he was practically skipping when they started walking again. What the hell had he gotten himself into...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this story, I really do. This was actually a one-off until recently, because I really like this pairing and there should really be more on them, especially since the Captain America Trilogy and Deadpool(2016) were such big things and the characters are both a bit insane in their own way, and incredibly and phenomenally hot and drop-dead-gorgeous-sexonlegs.
> 
> Again, I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what your favourite part was and what you thought :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter with some sexy-sex-sex xD Hope you enjoy this.
> 
> So, a few of you guys in the first chapter of this (when it was a one-off) wanted me to do a sex scene for it. So I did, but then, I thought of a plot while writing said sex-scene. So I'm blaming all of you for my sudden plot-bunny to have a full "sex-on-each-chapter" story between these two characters. It won't actually be "Sex on each chapter". Maybe every 2 to 3 chapters, so I can work the plot out perfectly. 
> 
> You guys better take responsibility for this!!!

As soon as they were through the front door of Wade’s house, he was shoved back against the wood and the merc was pressing their faces together again, his lips moving fast and energetically with his own and he was responding too, his hands getting under the fluffy, white insides of his dark red jacket. James managed to get him out of it and in turn, the soldier slipped out of his own, letting it drop to the floor before he forced the other man back into the room. He’d caught a glimpse of where the bed was, everything seeming to be in the same room, a small loft. He pushed him in that direction, wanting to get straight into it for the pleasure and sex and then he’d get out of there. A simple one-nightstand.

James’ mind paused for a second as he was spun around just as they reached the bed, and he was suddenly on his back, Wade leaning a knee between his spread legs and then leaning over him, his hands reaching out for the soldiers wrists and keeping them in place at the sides of his head as he dropped down and slipped his tongue between his lips. James groaned lightly, tilting his head and feeling the other man do the same to get a deeper kiss started. There was so much hot tongue, and gasps and panting between them, heating them up fast and he almost jerked out of surprise when the man above him shifted his position, both knees between his legs, spreading his own further and he had to actually hook them around the mercs’ thighs, effectively pulling him in closer and forcing their groins to press hotly.

He unintentionally broke the kiss to gasp when the guy rolled his pelvis into him, their jeans causing barely any friction, but the roughness of the rubbing made up for it. He did it again, the outcome being the same and then there was a mouth at the right side of his neck, sucking and biting at him. Thankfully, he was low on his throat, so it wouldn’t show if he left a dark enough mark. He healed fast, but not that fast.

James tried to kick his shoes off with his legs still hooked over his thighs, he was really glad he rushed out of the safe-house that morning. He hadn’t laced them as tight as he normally would. The soldier slipped them off and rocked his hips up, his legs pulling Wade down at the same time and they both gasped lightly, the merc rocking his hips down again. He then moved from his neck to kiss him wetly, over and over and he was groaning into his mouth, feeling him grind down on him.

“Jeans off, now,” he commanded gravelly against his lips, practically feeling the mans’ smirk growing as his mouth ghosted over his.

“Impatient, I like it,” Wade said as he leaned straight up, knees still between his own as he stared down and undid his trousers, his button-fly being pulled apart impressively fast before he moved off of him completely to drop his pants, underwear being pulled down with them. James took the time to unzip his own pants as Wade was slipping out of his baggy shirt. The soldier wouldn’t take his own shirt off, he’d say something if the merc tried it. He didn’t want him to see it. It was why he was still wearing the damn glove on his left hand.

James smoothly lifted his hips and slipped his trousers down his legs, making sure his underwear was with them too and then he was lying there in just his shirt, Wade moving back over him and not even bothering to ask about the shirt and glove as he climbed above him and pressed in close, their growing erections saddling together. They weren’t even moving and he was feeling the heat from the rawly hot shaft pressed against his. It was so warm and smooth and it was bigger than his, wider too.

The man leaned down again, pressing their lips together and the tongue was back, wrapping around his own wet, hot muscle as they started to rub against each other. Wade forced their hips together and was rolling his pelvis again, harder and with more pressure behind him. He couldn’t help the gasp that left him, breaking the kiss, but James quickly reconnected them and started another round while the merc just concentrated on heating up their gradual vibrating crotches.

“Turn over, get on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” Wade suddenly ordered deeply and roughly against his lips and he suddenly pulled back, moving far enough away so the soldier could swiftly turn himself over and begrudgingly do as he was told. He rested on his forearms and was almost stunned and yelped when his hips were grabbed and he was dragged to the edge of the bed, his knees being spread further apart and he was almost ashamed of what he imagined he looked like at that moment.

He inwardly shook his head at the thought, frowning lightly before calming himself down, though the gradual calming feeling didn’t last long. He deeply gasped in surprise and bit into his metal forearm at the sudden plunge of a wet, smouldering tongue slipping and forcing its way into his hole. He didn’t even register that tighter grip on his hips, Wades’ thumbs and first two fingers keeping his cheeks apart and he whined in his throat, the noise muffled by the arm and clenched teeth. If James had been standing when Wade stuck his tongue inside of him, he’d be shaking and unstable on his own feet. But thankfully, his knees were dug into the edge of the bed, his hands gripping tight at the bedsheets as he heated up on the spot, feeling the hot hands holding his hips and ass with the even hotter wet muscle squirming inside of him, wetting him and making him pant. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was already in this state when he was always a very composed guy. This was just intense, the pleasurable feeling gradually starting to take over him as he unintentionally groaned and gasped into the metal. He could just about hear the metallic echo.

“I can’t see what you’re doing up there, but from the sounds of it, you’re a pillow-biter,” he finished that statement off with a light breath on his ring, just a very light, long blow, to which he gasped at and bit harder into the metal. He couldn’t help the shudder than ran through his spine at the feeling and he really couldn’t help the second one when Wade chuckled and the little puffs of air reached the skin of his rear. “It’s twitching for me,” he lightly groaned at that, and then again when he felt the hot tip of the pad of Wades’ finger press against his hole. He could feel himself clenching and unclenching as the digit gently slipped in, just the tip and the intrusion just kept sinking in as the seconds passed. Eventually, the finger was in to the knuckle and he could feel it against the rim of his hole.

“Mm,” he groaned as the digit was suddenly turned inside of him, the finger now facing up and curling against his walls. His muscles were tensed and it was involuntary. He was feeling it pushing and flexing on his walls and it was odd and abnormal to him, but it felt oddly good, pleasurable. The sensation was sparking something and he couldn’t help closing his eyes or biting harder into the metal, probably wrecking his teeth and gums from the force. He wouldn’t be surprised if he actually made marks in the metal… actually, that was very doubtful to happen. He just gave an example how hard he was biting.

“Be right back, need lube,” he gasped and unwillingly jerked and arched when the finger was swiftly pulled from his rear, no warning or easing it out, no. He just yanked it out and he was left inwardly disappointed with the loss. He really wouldn’t admit it out loud though.

James heard the rummaging in the background, a few things ending up on the other end of the room and things were being tossed and then there was the not-so-quiet ‘ _ah-hah!_ ’ that left the mercs’ lips. He stalked back towards him, a deep yelp leaving his throat as he was spanked the once, making him jerk and Wade was lightly chuckling behind him, his hand still on his ass where he slapped and he was gently groping him, pressing his hot hand against the skin of his cheek.

“I’ve got a very fuckable view from where I’m standing,” James rolled his eyes and pulled his teeth from the metal of his arm, breathing roughly as he lifted his head.

“Do something about it,” he spoke gravelly, gradually lowering his teeth to the metal again, and he jerked, his back arching as Wade ran his thumb between his cheeks and slipped it into him as he passed by. Soon after, the hand left him and there was a wet noise behind him, like he was squeezing the lube out of the bottle. And he was right. Only seconds later and he felt two fingers slip in, fast and non-too gently. There was a split-second, faint burn around his ring and just on the inside, the pressurized intrusion forcing him open and pulling a gasp from his throat. It really didn’t last long, the burn. It was gone as fast as it came and he was arching as the twisting and turning and curling Wades’ fingers were doing, pushing and pressing against his walls and opening him up as fast as he could.

He was tempted to just ask him to put it in, to force him open and have his way, but the thought of being _forced_ into it shook his nerves. He couldn’t ask that. So he took what he was given and bit the metal, holding back as many noises as he could, the gasps and moans that were itching leave his throat at the pleasurable sparks shooting up his spine in small bursts.

“Mm,” he lightly jerked at the feel of his fingers pulling back to let a third in, the three digits slipping in easier than he thought. He let them slide in fast, relaxing his muscles against the penetration and letting them slip out just as easy. Wade pushed and pulled, over and over while curling and twisting his fingers, pressing harshly against the walls and forcing him open even more. And then he pulled out completely, causing a questioning twitch in James’ brow, enough curiosity for the soldier to pull his teeth from the metal and breathe easy for a moment. The soldier could hear the tearing in the background, like he was opening a packet. The condom maybe. He was panting very lightly, his body warm with a light sweat having broken his skin. It wasn’t enough to soak his shirt though.

“Think I might start taking photos of the great asses I see,” he paused. James knitted both brows and tried not to question him on why, the thought actually disappearing at the feel of hot hands completely covering his cheeks. He let out a hot, silent breathy gasp. “Yours gets the gold medal without needing to think twice,” he groped and slapped, spreading his cheeks apart again and putting his hole on display. He felt the pad of his thumb pressing against his ring again, not actually going in, but just resting there, covering the loosened hole and then the tiny warmth was gone. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his arm, taking in a deep breath at the feel of the hot mushroom tip slip up between his cheeks, just running up and down against him, teasing and too hot. His heart was speeding, his breathing was picking up and he could feel himself rocking back against it, the light, deep chuckle being music to his ears before the movements stopped and the head of his shaft was pressed squarely against his hole.

James tried not to tense as Wade leaned in, pushing his pelvis against him. The head popped in, the soldier jerking lightly and trying to stay as controlled and as relaxed as he possibly could while the shaft inched deeper and deeper. He took, managing to stay quiet and clenching his teeth as the feeling of being filled warmly spread through him.

Wade was just more than halfway in when he started a slow, almost instantly rhythmical rolling of his hips, back and forth, back and forth, and the hands on his hips kept him steady as he got deeper again, almost all the way in. He was huge, above average, the girth and length. He was already so close to moaning at the intense heat inside of him, filling him and making him shudder.

The guy started slow, just sort of easy thrusts, not giving him the time to adjust, even though he didn’t actually need it, and the hands grip tightened, becoming firmer and stronger, gradually starting to pull him back against him so they were meeting in the middle. The shots striking up his spine every time he was drawn back was sparking a heat in him, in his stomach, heating him and warming him. It went straight to his groin and he was gradually pushing himself back without Wade needing to pull. He was meeting him halfway on his own and they were gradually speeding up, only a few fractions faster, James needing to shift his elbows a bit further in front of him for better stability and so he could push back easier.

“Repeating my statement from earlier… _you’re so fucking gorgeous_ ,” he growled behind him, his hands gradually moving until one was gently resting on his back, between his shoulder-blades and the other was on his side, both just placed there, not doing anything except touching his shirt and feeling the muscle underneath while rocking into him at a good pace, fast, but not too fast that he’d come in seconds. He was going at a decent, pleasurable roll that James could rock back on and grind against him, bucking his hips at the last second before pulling back and meeting again. He could even hear the light pants leaving Wade, his hot, gradually dampening body slapping against him.

The heat just kept growing, making him even clammier and he was sure that it was showing through his shirt, maybe just at the hem of his neck and arm, maybe a thin line down the centre of his back. He blanked for a moment when Wade suddenly thrusted forward, a snap of his hips and he gasped, his heart slamming against his ribs and he shook lightly for a moment, his muscles wavering just a little and he arched back against the merc, feeling him do it again. He rocked into him, forcing him just a few inched forward on the bed with a snap of his hips, and, so far, every time, his heart thrummed and his body sent a huge spark of pleasure through him, spreading and heating him up and making him either gasp or moan. It was all going to his crotch and he was so hot, each thrust and snap sent a strike of pure, hot arousal.

He was still panting as he felt Wade leaned over him, his even warmer body just increasing the heat completely, the only thing between them being his long-sleeve. And arm slipped over his shoulder and around his neck, his hand resting on the other shoulder and he pulled him back, pulling him up into a sort of kneeling position. His hair was moved out of the way while he was still being thrusted into and he felt the lazy kisses being planted along his neck, going up the length and sucking lightly just under his ear. He eventually got them close enough to actually kiss him again, their tongue instantly meeting, but only for a few seconds.

Wade pulled his arms back and thankfully gripped the crooks of his neck, not the shoulders, like he’d thought he would and the pace quickened, almost bruising. The merc was suddenly fast and rough and James was gasping and moaning and biting at his metal again, his hair falling straight over his face. It hurt, it seriously hurt, but in a good way, it was pleasurable pain, burning his insides and sending so much arousal through him that he could feel his groin tightening and straining between his legs. The pit of his stomach was on fire, only seeming to get hotter and hotter and he couldn’t manage to hold his moans. He was making noise into the metal and had to pull his teeth from the solid material, his voice being heard. He couldn’t hold them.

“I-.. I’m...” he couldn’t even talk. The pleasure was shooting through him so hard and fast that he couldn’t even speak a damn sentence. But Wade seemed to get it either way because he reached down and he felt the smouldering hot hand wrap around him, instantly forcing him to arch into both the hand and the oncoming, rough thrusts.

“I know,” he breathed deeply into his ear, still snapping his hips forward into him and the palm around him started a fast stroke, tight and hot and heavenly. He was so damn close, right there on the edge and he could help but try and rock back and forth under Wade, writhing and shaking from being so close.

The hand managed to tighten again, harder and he could feel the thumb rubbing over the head of his shaft, pressing against the very top where the hole was and then digging at his slit. He was keening, whining, his forehead being pressed into the bed covers. He needed release, so bad. And with one intense snap of Wades’ hips and a particularly rough and painful stroke of his hand, James’ entire body tensed and clenched, muscles straining and stressing as he let out a whine-like groan, his mouth open and letting a throat deep sound out as he blew, his come dropping and spreading beneath him, covering the sheets below. He panted harshly, the ends of his hair damp and heavy, along with his eyes as his body relaxed and he felt like he was floating, the hot, heavy body suddenly pressed against his back breathing just as fast and James could feel his heartbeat against him, loudly and deeply thumbing through his shirt into his skin.

He stayed there for a few minutes, his body too relaxed and his mind almost completely empty as he could feel his abdomen resting in his own come, to which he grimaced at and just tried to ignore. Wade was still lying on him, resting heavily over him as they were awkwardly sprawled out right near the edge of the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time this happened. Before HYDRA? Before the war? He hadn’t had proper good sex for seventy years, give or take. And he still didn’t count Rumlow. Pierce had forced him to do it. So it meant nothing at all. This would be his very first sexual encounter since regaining his own mind, or something like his own mind. He could probably see this as a clean slate, a new life and this would be his very first time as James, not Bucky, or the Winter Soldier.

“I can _hear_ those cogs a-turning,” he heard the body on top of him groggily mention, his lips at his neck again and he sounded completely blissed out at the moment. “Penny for your thoughts?” he said as he gently pressed his mouth to his pulse point, just simply sucking and kissing.

“Keep your money,” was all he replied with, not wanting to talk about it. He felt the body reluctantly move, shifting heavily off of him with a few groans and the weight was gone, though Wade was still lingering behind him, a knee between his spread legs. James then reluctantly started moving, his lower half really straining as he got up on all fours and kneeled, looking over his shoulder at the thoughtful expression on the mercs face. He didn’t seem to pry any further though. No questioning look of a face that asked him to elaborate or want to go any further now that he pointed out he didn’t want to talk. He respected it. Wade seemed to be respecting his distance and lack of interest in talking about himself or his thoughts.

“So… I’m gonna get you a new shirt, because we totally ruined that one,” he grinned and bounced off of the bed and headed towards the cupboard off to the side, the big rectangle with pull out drawers. He’d pulled the condom off and tossed it into the bin on the way, walking naked until he reached the drawers. He rifled through it for a few seconds. “I can wash yours if you want. You heading to the bar tomorrow? Day after?” he didn’t feel like taking the shirt off, he could easily just wash his own when he gets back, and just cover himself with his jacket until he reached his safehouse.

“I don’t need a shirt. I’ll take care of it,” he responded flatly as he awkwardly stood up, refraining from making ached sounds as he grabbed his underwear and trousers and slipped into them, feeling the still slightly wet come being smear against his stomach as he zipped his pants back up and buttoned the top. He moved to sit back down, ignoring the lingering burn as he slipped his shoes back on.

“You sure?” he took a glance at the offering gesture and lightly shook his head, returning to what he was doing. He didn't want to stay long, just in case he was being tracked. He didn't want to be the reason Wade got hurt or killed. The man could obviously take care of himself, but not against HYDRA agents that wanted nothing more than to get their Asset back. Killing came easy to them and if Wade was in the way, he'd die. 

“I have a shower and clothes back at my place,” he responded just as flatly as before, trying not to look at him again as he tied his other shoe and stood up, still feeling his ring burn from the rather intense sex. He’d loved it, he really did. So, he could at least… “Thank you… for tonight,” he stupidly turned to look at him, seeing the almost kicked puppy look, mild disappointment in his haste to leave and he instantly wanted to _kick himself_ at seeing the expression. Guilt wasn’t a nice feeling, and he had no idea as to why he should feel guilty. This was a one-night-stand, nothing he should feel guilty for. They weren’t lovers or anything. He wasn’t breaking up with him, because there wasn’t anything between them. “I had a good time,”

“A good enough time that we can do it again sometime?” again? He wanted to have another round again?

“We’ll see,” he replied casually and headed towards the door, grabbing his jacket that he’d slipped out of right at the entrance. He picked up Wades’ as well and draped it over the nearby chair before slipping into his coat and zipping it right up to his collarbones. He waved over his shoulder as he opened the door and closed his behind him, leaving as fast as possible before anyone else saw him and he rushed out of the building, heading around the corner, in the opposite direction to his safe-house, making sure that he did a few rounds to make sure he wasn’t being followed before actually making his way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No point in asking what your favourite part was, sex-scene, obviously. This was all sex xD Enjoy? You likey? Should I continue? I'm going to anyway, just saying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a sex chapter, that's the next one. This is more of a 'Bucky's doing a sort of good deed' chapter. Hope you enjoy :)

Right after that night, James had gone back to the bar, getting himself a job from Weasel because he was still a bit hopped up from a mild excitement. It’d been three days since he returned to ‘S _ister-Margarets_ ’, not because he didn’t want to face Wade. He didn’t really care whether he saw him sooner or later. It was a great night, the sex was good, pleasurable, and he hadn’t been tracked or trailed, like he feared. And to top it off, the sex actually loosened him up a little. He felt a lot more at ease even with his sharp senses and mild adrenaline rush. He was physically relaxed when he got pack to his safe-house, or apartment, really.

James had dropped back onto his couch and watched some tv with a cup of decaf coffee. He even ordered a pizza off of his burner. The last couple of days had been similar, apart from watching for his target and he was getting into a funk, a sort of routine. He’d do his usual morning thing, shower, dress, get a sandwich from a convenient store and he’d sit on a bench somewhere and eat it, keeping his eyes sharp for the guy he was after. When he was ready to get busy, having cased his target, watching, learning and reading into his schedule, he collected his things and took a few early morning hours cleaning them and he went straight to bed.

That morning, after eating some leftover pizza as breakfast, James dressed himself, tied his hair up into a loose ponytail and grabbed his coat, pistol and knives, tucking them away, hiding them on his person and he’d left. He’d headed out to work his job. An easy one. A battering step-father issue. Little pay, though a good amount that he could save over for rent. Easy break-in and wait. He had no cameras or alarms, which was stupid, really. Especially when the guy clearly knew that he was hated and could be a target for anyone. And he had money, he was pretty wealthy. So, there was no reason _‘not’_ to get alarms fitted, though James wasn’t complaining. It just made this all the more easy.

Scare the guy, rough him up and warn him to leave his step-daughter alone. Get some shamed pictures and send them her way.

It was after dark and he was waiting in his living room, hidden in the corner, mask tucked up over his nose, similar to how his Winter Soldier mask used to cover his face, and he was decked out in casual clothes, just hiding there. He’d be home any second according to his schedule and he was ready, chloroform cloth in hand and chair placed ready to drop him in it. They were ropes on the table next to him, a gag and cuffs, just in case, and the Polaroid camera sat off to the side, ready to be used.

And it didn’t take long for him to get home, thankfully. The keys in the door lock set his mind and body even sharper, keeping as quiet as possible, which seriously wasn’t hard, what with all his training as the Soldier. It was so easy to slip back into that persona and use those abilities and ghost-like presence.

It just made it easier again to step out from the dark as the man stepped carelessly in front of him and wrapped his deadly arms around him, the metal one clamping his arms down and the flesh one, covering with a glove, holding the cloth to his nose and mouth. There was struggling, pathetic struggling and in a matter of seconds, the target was drooping in his hold, having taken it in almost willingly with the panting and muffled yelling. It’d meant he inhaled it faster, the idiot.

Eventually, he was out, completely unconscious and he set about lifting him into the chair and redressing him, or rather, _undressing_ him until he was only wearing his underwear. He gagged him, tied him to the chair and repositioned his head so that anyone would be able to tell who it was, as he took the first picture.

He’d continued to clean up a little, clearing a space in the loft and spreading a clean, king sized bed sheet over the floor, so he could drag the chair carrying the man further in before placing him on it, still in the chair. He shifted him closer to the white, empty wall and left him there to go and grab his things, dropping a majority onto the nearby corner-couch. He quirked a brow for just a moment and rushed into one of the rooms he’d surveyed when he first got there. He grabbed one of the tall standing lamps and dragged it into the room, plugging it in before turning it on and faced it directly towards the man, aiming it so he was sure that the light would be the only thing that the guy would see when he opened his eyes. The lighting was perfect, there were limits to what you could see, and there was no harm done, yet. He’d get to that.

James took another quick picture for good measure and put it with the other.

\----------

The waiting was the boring part. He’d grabbed an extra chair, put a sheet over it and sat down with crossed arms, rocking back and forth until the telling groan resonated off of the walls a good twenty to thirty minutes later. He turned to glance at him, watching carefully as he came out of his haze while quietly standing from the chair and making his way over, stopping behind the light.

“Ngh… Mmn… Nnghm,” the gag clearly worked, even with the disorientation the chloroform caused as an after effect, nothing new there. He’d almost scoffed at the struggle attempt. “Nnm? Eemmp!” James was sure that that was meant to be ‘help’. The soldier took a step to the side, noting how the mans eyes shot wide and he struggled again when his figure stayed dark, but was seen stepping enough into view.

“You know Naika Toussaint, right?” he asked after a few seconds of nervous silence from the guy. “Obviously. You’re her stepfather, the man that hurts her when her mother’s not around-,”

“Mooo, Moo! Mo! Uuu og e wonmm!” ‘ _No, no, no, you got it wrong_ ’. Clearly he didn’t. The man was panicking. Only the guilty panicked, or that was what he’d learned after the first few jobs he’d taken. James stepped further out, but because the light was right behind him now, he wouldn’t be seen. He’d be a dark figure still.

“No, I don’t. I did enough research into you and the families you slithered your way into to know that there’s proof of underage-child battery. The records show multiple injuries and wounds, calls from schools and friends. And it was only _‘after’_ you entered their lives,” he got closer, looming over the man intimidatingly, threateningly. He eyed him darkly, hearing the faint sounds of whimpering. “Let me know when I’m getting off track… You get in, get comfortable and when the kid doesn’t listen to you, your true colours come out and you show them who’s boss,” with each darkly spoken word, he eased closer, his hands reaching for the arms tied to the chair and he grips harder and harder, careful with his metal hand. He made it seem as strong as the other, evening out the grip and forcing out pained whines from the guy. “Am I wrong?” he seethed, his grip tightening a fraction. “Am I?!” he growled, scaring the man. He jumped and whimpered through the gag, even coughed out a cry and low whine. _Pathetic_.

James pulled back and grabbed the camera. He hadn’t even touched the man, apart from gripping his arms, and he was crying, red in the face and clammy looking. He was already a mess.

He shook his head and took a photo, a second as a copy.

“Waar u moimn niss,” ‘ _Why’re you doing this_ ’. He was crying while saying it, really this man was really not worth the time and effort he put into casing him and keeping an eye on him. He was well and truly pathetic. He didn’t feel bad about any of this, no. He just felt bad and embarrassed for him. He should really be ashamed of how he was acting. “Hak anhim u wan, peeaas,” ‘ _Take anything you want, please_ ’. He snapped another photo of him actually crying, you could see the tears.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered to himself as the man continued to whimper.

“A am momney, ars, dewely,” ‘ _I have money, cars and jewelry_ ’. James huffed exasperated and reached his flesh arm back, swinging at him as easily as he could. The man grunted, obviously he hadn’t been that gentle and there was already a bruise forming, growing and the man only wept more. This was just embarrassing. He took another photo and then put the camera down on the couch with the rest of the photos. James walked back over and stepped in close, so close and he growled threateningly.

“You touch her or any other girl, even think about it, and I’ll find you,” he snarled lowly, hearing the high pitched, scared whine.

As the man continued to cry, he snuck to the office, grabbing an empty envelope. He found money, a good 1000 waiting there, sitting there to pay for his brand new car coming in. Obviously he’d paid most of it off and the 1000 was left until it arrived in the next few days. He grabbed it, only taking two hundred for himself. The rest went into the envelope for Naika when he’d find her later that night.

He huffed again as he came back into the living room, the man still crying. He shook his head and re-chloroformed the cloth, stepping up to him and roughly pressing it to his face as he struggled again.

He was out in seconds. This man was just… he had no words…

\----------

“Naika Toussaint?” he called as he stepped up to a few girls at the edge of the skatepark, sitting there chatting and watching the boards, bikes and skates roll. They laughed, though one of them turned to face him, a smile on her face. He held out the envelope, shaking it as if to gesture for her to take it. She quickly stood up, her friends turning in surprise to see her stride over and grab it, opening it with wary eyes and then they widened, a scoff-ish laugh leaving widening open grin.

“No way!” she beamed and flicked through the pictures. “Girls, c’mere,” she waved them over and they came fast, all starting to laugh when they looked through the photos too.

“Oh my god,” “Fucker deserved worse,” “Is he seriously wearing star wars underwear?” he held back his scoff at their words and kept his eyes on her.

“If he tried anything, send another one. I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” he flicked out the gold card, twiddling it in his fingers before pocketing it again. He was about to walk away, but she grabbed him, hugged him with her head pressing into his shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squeezed and pulled back, still beaming at him. “I gotta ask about all this money though,” she pulled out a wrapped hundred, though there was eight in there, all tied into wads.

“He said that I could take anything. He had a thousand lying around. And you don’t need to pay me,” he shrugged. He was sure that she already saw through him that he grabbed two hundred of it, especially with that smile curving further. Yeah, she knew. She gathered what he was saying. “See ya ‘round,” he smirked and walked away, keeping his hands pocketed.

“You’re my hero,” she yelled out to him. He really wanted to protest to that, but all he could really do after looking over his shoulder and seeing her genuine smile was wave and give a smile back in return.

\----------

He opened the door to ‘Sister-Margarets’ and stepped in, casually pulling the band from his hair to let it down as he walked in. He slipped it over his metal wrist and turned the corner, heading straight for the bar. Weasel saw him, giving him and acknowledged nod and smile, a nod that James returned and he saw him get straight to grabbing a cup. He worked fast and fluidly, like water, like second nature and he sat himself at the bar in front, right ahead of the man.

“How’d it go?” he asked casually, seeming not too nervous of him. The only reason he’d think that he didn’t seem as wary was because of Wade. They were friends, so maybe talking, making out and having sex with him made Weasel think that he wasn’t actually too bad.

… He was thinking too much.

James reached into his pocket and pulled out a smaller envelope, much like Naika’s, and put it on the table, letting him take it, open it and grin like a madman when he pulled out the second copies he’d taken. James then grabbed the gold card and passed it over to the barkeep, letting him grab it.

“If she calls in again, send me,” he spoke calmly as he circled his hand around the cup and took a long sip of his whiskey.

“Not a problem, man,” he cackled at him and continued to look through the photos. “How long’d it take to break him?” he scoffed as soon as the question was out.

“I didn’t do anything,” he shrugged. “He started crying as soon as I started talking,” he shook his head and took another gulp, longer and faster. He’d finished the cup and signalled for another as he pulled out the notes, only a few and passed them over the table. “Keep ‘em coming,” James sighed. Yeah, he could get tipsy, maybe even drunk, but it took so much drink and strong liquor for it to even hit him. He wanted to feel something tonight. The job had been too easy and he was still too sharp, his senses and body were buzzing and not in a good way, so he needed to at least feel the effects of being drunk. He had enough money to actually get there, he was sure, but he didn’t know if it meant that he’d be drinking this place dry.

“You wanna get shit-faced, huh?” James scoffed again, grabbing the cup as it was passed over to him and he looked just over his shoulder as Wade stepped up and sat next to him. He eyed the merc, watching as a sly smirk slipped his lips and he turned back to Weasel with another sip of his new cup of whiskey.

“Whatever he wants,” he gestured roughly, gesturing at him like he wasn’t interested.

“What’ll it be, you douchebag?” he resisted raising a brow, thinking that it was just how they interested. It was casual, automatic. It was like Bucky and Steve before WWII and the Super-Serum. ‘ _You’re a Punk_ ,’ ‘ _Jerk_ ,’. All in good fun, friends, names that were derogatory, not hurtful, even if they seemed to be to others. It was a friendship. Something he _did_ miss, wouldn’t admit to anyone, not even to Steve himself.

Not yet anyway. Too soon.

“I’ll have what he’s having,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whacha think? You like it? Enjoy it? What was your favourite part? I'd say it's between the Winter soldier side of his at the start, when he's waiting for the step-father and the end, when he's talking with Weasel and Wade comes up behind him. :) 
> 
> I hope that you're enjoying this, even if it's still only 3 chapters right now :) Let me know what you think, I'll like chatting and bantering with you guys :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sex chapter, you're welcome xD The next one, I plan on having James change the shirt and some talking happens, not action-y or sexy, just a bit of hanging around and flirting and touching. Nothing big :)
> 
> If you have any ideas you want to throw my way, I'll consider them and get back to you. :)

They burst through the door, Wade slamming it closed behind them without breaking the frantic and rough kissing and James quickly threw off his jackets, keeping his shirt on again as the merc got out of his own jacket and surged forward, kissing him harder again and snaking his hands down to his thighs. The soldier kept perfect balance as he was lifted, lips still locked and he was pressed back hard against the wall, legs wrapping around the other mans waist, his arms lacing his neck too. He could feel the hot, wet tongue filling his mouth, wrapping around his own and he let out a groan, short and subtle and the hands on the underside of his thighs shifted closer to his ass, eventually pressing the wide palm over his jeaned cheeks.

“I love your ass,” the merc growled against his lips, James breathing fast and lightly knocking their heads together.

“Couldn’t tell,” he said sarcastically and attempted to roll his hips, his ass rotating just a bit, and it was a success. In addition to all that, his growing semi rubbed against his jeans and against Wades’ abdomen. The palms squeezed, groping him and he was pulled from the wall, still keeping balance and still making out as they moved over to the bed again, Wade miraculously not tripping over anything. He was dropped to the mattress gracelessly, though James somehow made it look graceful, and Wade was over him, like the first time. He leaned up onto his elbows to meet the merc in another kiss, the mans hands instantly starting to roam his body and ignoring the shirt as they ran down his toned sides. They slipped lower, over his hips and changed direction, grabbing at his belt to undo his trousers.

He figured out that the guy was way more handsie when drunk. James had drank him under the table, having only just tasted that sliver of tipsy that he so badly wanted after his job and then the merc started touching and using pick up lines, lame ones, though they’d made him unnoticeably smirk and then he offered him that second night that the guy wanted, the second round. Wade obviously beamed and practically dragged him out of the bar, Weasel giving them an exasperated wave as they left. He could still smell the double whiskies on the mans’ breath and it was drawing. James licked at his lips, nipped and bit at him and the man was groaning dirtily back, his eyes closed and he’d paused, his hands and body not moving as the soldier just started sucking on his bottom lip. He almost smirked, but instead nipped just that little bit harder to hear his breathing hitch and he pulled back.

“That’s one way to shut you up,” he sighed deeply, hotly. Wade gasped, feigning the hurt expression and agape mouth with wide eyes.

“Hurtful. You’re so mean,” the merc leaned in close, clearly not bothered by what he’d said and kissed him again, sucking on the soldiers’ bottom lip.

“Gonna do something about it?” James gradually rounded the side of his face and breathed deeply into his ear, hearing the deep, breathy laugh, and then he was suddenly forced down, his back arching just a little with his biceps being held down to the mattress. James had actually felt a shock of pleasure run through him and up his spine, a turn on or a weird kink he hadn’t expected to have as he stared up at the erotic and aroused look on Wades’ face. If he could feel the difference between his arms, which he was sure he could, he said nothing. He should easily be able to feel that he can’t grip the metal like he could grip his flesh arm. Wade knew, he felt it. He just didn’t say anything and instead, got into the moment.

“Oh I’mma do something,” he smirked wider, staring directly into his eyes. “I’m gonna strip you, hold you down like this, and open you up like a pretty Christmas present that I’d stick my dick in,” James’ brows raised and he resisted the urge to question him on sticking his dick in gifts, the logic in his head catching it and just focusing on the _‘why’_ side of it. Odd thing to say, but no less arousing.

He didn’t actually get a chance to ask either way. Wade let him go and reached for his trousers belt again while James stayed still, arms still relaxed against the mattress where the merc had held him and it was hard to keep the amused smirk off of his lips as he felt his pants and underwear being pulled down in one swift movement. His shoes were pulled off, letting the trousers slip off easily. And then he was bare from the waist down, Wade getting up from the bed entirely to strip himself, ridding himself of everything. James watched as the man stepped away just for a few seconds, going through a few drawers next to the bed and he tried to relax, taking easy breathes while he lifted a leg up, his heel resting on the edge of the bed.

“I need to stock up after tonight, before we do this again. _Condom spree_ ,” he practically sang, his tone a few pitches higher as he closed the drawer and came back around to the bed. James scoffed and rolled the small of his back up from the bed sheets, spreading his legs just a little as Wade got back onto the bed, between his thighs. “Any requests? Flavoured condoms and/or lube? I could totally see you wearing a one direction hood _(condom)_. You a Harry guy? Or Liam?” he also talked a little more while buzzed.

“Neither. I’m a plain guy,” he answered with a gradual growth of exasperation. He hooked his legs over the mans thighs and pulled him closer, feeling their hot shafts bump together and lightly rub. There were hands suddenly holding him down again by his arms and he swore that Wade would’ve felt it that time, the difference between them. They were lightly squeezed when he grabbed him, and the right bicep was the only one of the two that budged. The other stayed completely tight and solid. And he _still_ didn’t say anything about it.

“I’d call you boring, but our situation says otherwise,” James scoffed and involuntarily rolled his hips along with Wade, feeling him just rocking back and forth so slowly, controllingly, rubbing their shafts together flatly. At least there was contact and friction. He closed his eyes and dropped his head to the bed, letting his waist move with the mercs and feeling the heat growing, the same heat from the other night. James briefly felt his grip move, shifting from his biceps to his wrists, or around the middle of his forearms. He’d moved for better stability and he quickly found out why, Wade started getting a bit harder, pressing their pelvis’ closer and rocking rougher against him. He’d pulled deep, quiet gasps from him before his lips were taken again, kissing harder and actually nipping him back.

“Definitely not boring,” the merc said deeply, his voice caught with breathy pants as he kept rolling against him. “Can’t wait, can’t wait,” his eyes opened just a little to see him pulling back and reaching to the side for something, the condom and lube more than likely. His assumption was confirmed when he opened and wrapper and stuck something on, the lip of a bottle being opened next with a squirt sound. “Up, up, up,”

James lifted himself and quickly got into the same position he was in before, on his knees and elbows with his forehead pressed against the sleeve covered metal arm. He took a calm breath as he felt the two fingers prod at him, his cheeks being spread and then they sank in, the small of his back arching lightly at the faint burn. It didn’t bother him, like the first time it hadn’t. There was the mix of something, the tiny spark of something odd and uncomfortable. But he knew that it’d pass after a handful of seconds.

The fingers twisted and turned, curling on his walls and tugging and pulling and pushing as he dragged them out and shoved them back in. He wasn’t being too gentle, and James didn’t want it gentle, so this was working perfectly. He even pushed back on him every time he went to slip them back in. A third was then added after the last pull-out and the burn was back, lasting a little longer than before and he bit at his arm, feeling the metal and faintly tasting it through the thin sleeve.

The digits twisted deeper, turning while being pushed in, and he knew that Wade had done it on purpose to hear him groan and squirm, his control faltering for just a few seconds. He held back his gasps, or tried to, and spread his legs just a little bit further apart, his hands gripping hard at the sheets with his teeth scraping the metal of his arm. The room was heating up around him and he really hated his arm at the moment. He didn’t want to take his shirt off because of it, but he really wanted to take it off because the warmth of the room was getting to him. He could feel the thin breakouts’ of sweat along his back, side and chest. Obviously along his legs too, but the shirt was making it all the more worse.

“C’mon,” he half whined, half groaned, grinding back against the fingers, feeling them slips just a bit deeper than before and scrape against his walls roughly. He could feel the hot knuckles against the outter ring of his hole and he rotated his hips, feeling the light puffs of hot air against the skin of his ass when Wade chuckled.

“Aw, sweetheart, hang on. I’m appreciating the view,” … he really just called him sweetheart. It really shouldn't have sounded as hot as it did to be called that, a definitely not in his position, but his dick twitched and stiffened further. He’d deny that it did if Wade decided to ask. Name Calling or pet names or whatever, hadn’t been a thing, in any situation and ‘Sweetheart’ had never been in the same sentence and/or used on him.

“Appreciate it faster,” James rocked his pelvis back on the fingers again, gasping lightly into his arm.

“Okay, okay. Fine,” the soldier felt relief buzz through him when the fingers were dragged out, almost too slow, and he swore he heard muttering about ‘ _in more of a rush than the fucking white rabbit_ ’, and he was afraid to even comment. He had no idea what he meant by the reference. He didn’t get it. “Turn back over,” James instantly listened again, quickly, easily and gracefully flipping himself and get back into the position he was in earlier, legs spread with Wade sitting close between them, his dick pressed against his own again.

The man shifted just a bit closer and rolled his hips back, his hand reaching down to line up the head of his shaft. James waited only a few seconds before feeling the tip press against his hole, lube being dripped around the ring and the head with his other hand. The bottle was tossed and the warm fingers were back, lathering him up as well as the shaft. Wade started to press in, his hips inching forward and the soldier took in a sharp breath when the tip slipped in, his hole stretching with a warm burn.

“For a guy that’s only had sex with another guy once…” he trailed off with a shake of his head. James knew what he was talking about. He was gesturing towards the fact that he had some knowledge on what to do, and how to do it. “... it’s like… you’re body’s made for it,” he couldn’t reply, definitely not when Wade pushed in, forced himself to slip further and widen him, stretching him and not letting him adjust. James dropped his head back and closed his eyes, his brows knitting with discomfort and something else. He let out a low gasp and arched against him, feeling him slip further and further until their pelvises were pressing completely, with his legs hooked around the other mans’ waist.

James swallowed thickly when he felt his arms being moved, strong hands holding him to the mattress by his forearms and his back was arched again, forcing the small of his back from the bed. He opened his eyes just for a few seconds to see the bliss on the mans’ face, staring down at him as he started an already not-so-gentle thrusting. He’d pulled back and snapped forward, his hips hitting his and hearing the light slap of skin. He did it again and again, and James was careful not to let his emotion slip through onto his features. He just closed his eyes and knitted his brow, his mouth open just a little while gasping with each strong and loud rock and snap of his hips.

The soldier lifted his lower waist every time Wade rolled forward, meeting him about half way and feeling the slaps get faster and harder. He started panting hard and starting rocking with him, the heat gradually turning up again, outside and inside him. His hands were still fisting at the bedsheets, the metal one covered by the glove probably helped with not ripping them. He still had a few sharp parts to the hand were fabric would get caught.

“ _Oh, fuuuuck_ ,” James heard the merc groan through gritted teeth, his grip on his arms tightening, though he couldn’t feel it on the metal one. He gasped and arched his waist over and over, meeting him hard and fast, and then harder and faster when the man leaned further over him, now face to face with him. He could feel him through closed eyes, the closer presence and damn, it only made everything hotter. Sooo much hotter. So much hotter that his shirt was more than likely starting to get patches. He’d have to take it off. No-...

“Mmm,” he bit his lip hard, feeling the sting and tasting the sliver of blood on his tongue. There were hot sparks shooting through his body, spreading and shorting towards and inside of him, heading straight for his groin, tightening him and forcing him to convulse and clench around the hot, hard dick thrashing against his insides. He arched hard again and pushed back against the merc, feeling him slam in just right at the same time.

James gasped loudly and tensed completely, body straining and they both stilled, though Wades’ was more to do with the soldier. He tried to relax and pulled the man forward with his hooked legs. He’s calmed and unclenched enough for him to keep thrusting, hard and still frantic. And James had blown his load over his shirted abdomen, white and creamed spots darting his shirt.

The merc suddenly thrusted hard, almost too hard and fell against him, tight and stiff against him. He felt so hot and rough on the inside, the shaft spasming and twitching.

James’ head dropped back to the bed and panted harshly, feeling the heat and warmth around him and inside. Wade was still heavy and weighing on him, lying across his front with his mouth and nose pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing just as roughly against him. They were clammy with sweat and James’ own come spread over his abdomen, and yet, Wade didn’t seem at all bothered about it. He just started chuckling deeply against his skin, his arms slipping between him and the bed with his hands on his shirt covered ‘ _metal_ ’ shoulder and just off from the small of his back.

Guess he hadn’t needed to take the shirt off after all, though he may need to after seeing the mess he’d made. His hoodie would do fine as a replacement until he got back to his safehouse.

The soldier swallowed thickly and squired under the merc, feeling him tighten his grip around him. James only groaned and patted the mans’ back, a gesture to get the hell off, but he only whined back and nuzzled against him further. He was falling asleep… the guy was actually getting comfortable on top of him, holding him in place while they relaxed in their blissed moment. Like hell was he a damn pillow though.

With whatever strength he had left, James forced them over, rolling them and swapping their position so Wade was on his back and he was above. He slipped his arms between them, ignoring the protesting whines and groans and tired babbling of ‘aw, c’mon’ ‘you’re not a cuddler?’ He moved to sit up, the mumbling suddenly stopped and he eyed him, seeing the fast transform from whining to suggestive. The hands were on his hips now, massaging the skin and rubbing his thumbs over the bones and muscle.

James was straddling him, his hands still on his chest, his thighs pressed against the sides of his waist and they were still attached. The merc was still firmly inside of him. And he wouldn’t blush, he really wouldn’t. He didn’t feel suddenly awkward or mildly embarrassed about any of this.

He quickly looked away and eased himself up, feeling the limb slip out of him with Wade chuckling like a schoolgirl.

“The shirt’s still on the table if you want it,” he frowned and looked down at himself as he stood up, one knee still on the bed and he actually might’ve. His shirt was a mess. Sweat patches, come stains and it was stretched up and creased over in so many different places.

“Don’t pick something stupid,” he huffed with mild exasperation and glanced around the room for a door, a cover, anything that he could hide behind so he wouldn’t see his arm or scarring around it.

“Wouldn’t dare,” he replied as he bounced up, slapping him hard, square on the ass and leaving a hot sting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter, I sure did xD What'd you think? 
> 
> Hopefully I can finally start working up a relationship from the next chapter on, something fun and exciting. Again, if you have any, please let me know if you have any ideas or suggestions. I like hearing what you guys have to say or what you think of a certain part or flirty sentences and stuff. I will say now, that I don't plan on making Wade bottom at any point, that's a nono for me, not because I don't want to, it's just because I can't. I really can't see as anything other than a top with James/Bucky, and that's why. I'd find it too hard because I really can't see him bending over for James and taking it. I really don't know what it is.
> 
> Oh, and if you have positions you want to see them in, let me know :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really fun story to write, so much fun!! Fun times!!! Only chapter 5 and there's more sexy for you xD 
> 
> Let me know if you want more stuff to happen, maybe certain stuff you "want" to happen, like the most randomest stuff ever and I'll try my best. Depending on what you want, you may have to wait a chapter or two, because there is some plot to this and you'd have to wait for me to set up what you want. 
> 
> Like Blind Al, she'll be in this story soon. Maybe next chapter or the one after, probably the next one. Weasel will be back too :) 
> 
> Just leave a comment and I'll get back to you. I'm writing the ideas down so I don't forget them too, so no need to worry about me missing a comment or whatever. I read each comment sent my way :)

The shirt was tossed his way, a dark grey long sleeve with a slight v-neck to the collar and from the look of it, it was for colder weather. It was a sweatshirt, with the wrists having a sort of cuff to them. James kept the shirt from touching his own, not wanting to leave a stain on it and did another once over of the room before turning towards Wade with an almost flat stare

“Can you…” he gestured for him to turn away politely, waving his hand at him in a sort of circular motion. The man responded with an ‘ _oh_ ’ sound before swiftly spinning on the spot, still completely naked, and he was sure that the guy was doing it on purpose, otherwise he was just the kind of man that really didn’t care about clothes… he could’ve been both actually. And James didn't stare. He definitely hadn’t eyed his ass over before turning back to the shirt.

“I'll set up a changing thingy for you next time,” what? The soldier stopped as he put the long-sleeve on the bed and slid his own shirt up, pausing just as it uncovered his shoulders and he outright stared in surprise and curious confusion. Wade would set up an area for him to change for the next time he was there? The soldier ignored the comment and confidence he’d had in saying they would be doing this again, seeming to expect them to have sex _again_. James actually expected it too, but he wouldn’t admit it.

What had his attention, was that he was being considerate and respectful of his need to hide his arm, not asking questions or prying into the ‘ _why_ ’s, but instead, he was thinking of way to accommodate him being there, actually seeming to want James to feel comfortable enough to change and linger in his loft. It felt comforting to hear and think it. What was uncommon to him, was the thought that Wade wanted him around, wanted him to stay and hang around to chat and jump into bed together, the latter not even needing to be addressed since it was pretty obvious that they would either way.

“Thank you,” he mumbled quietly and pulled his shirt over his head, now tugging it down his arms before taking the glove too, it was now tucked somewhere in the sleeve. James quickly grabbed the sweatshirt Wade had given him and slipped his arms through the holes, his head going through next and he then gripped at the hem of the bottom of the shirt, pulling it down until it was hanging baggily over his waist and hips, almost covering his junk. It was big and baggy, the sleeves hanging over his hands, reaching his knuckles. A thought then came to him, that he didn't completely need his glove like this, with only his fingers on show. He could still hide it in his pocket as he left and returned to his safe house. He could easily pass it off as the prosthetic it was until then and Wade would still respect the boundaries James kept up regarding it, so hopefully no questions would be asked.

“Done,” he spoke up before pulling the sleeve slightly further over his hand and then turning away to reach down for his underwear piled up in his trousers. He slipped them on swiftly and pulled them up just as a hand patted his ass casually. James turned to glance over his shoulder to see Wade now standing close and then passing him with a smirk and wink before dropping himself into an almost egg shaped spinning chair, a leg propped up over the curved arm of the soft carpet-y material.

“I’m _sooo_ giving you my wardrobe,” what? The soldier frowned and eyed him oddly, his browline creasing slightly. James wasn’t actually too sure on the rules as of what happened now. They’d had sex and he was meant to be leaving, but Wade started talking, seeming to want to pull him into a conversation. Was he meant to stay for a while? Maybe linger for an hour and _then_ leave?

“Why?” he questioned hesitantly, but smoothly, no voice cracks or stutters that had indicated that he’d been uncertain. He only inclined his head and crossed his arms over his chest, his metal fingers curling and hidden from view.

“You really don’t get how sexy you are, let alone wearing one of my shirts,” James could tell that he was still drunk, maybe slowly starting to sober, but his words still slurred a little and he was just staring at him, eyeing him over from head to toe and the soldier didn’t like that little warm spark in his chest. The compliment really hit home and he liked it. When was the last time someone ever hit on him or called him anything close to that? Before the war obviously, when he was Bucky and was picking up dames. “You’re insanely gorgeous with _and_ without clothes, but wearing _that_ it a serious turn on,” Wade gestured towards his torso, to the shirt and James watched him, just watched as he seemed to zone out, going suddenly quiet while he gazed, staring at him like he was the only thing there.

“You talk too much,” he commented quietly and uncrossed his arms, reaching down to grab his jeans before slipping into them and pulling them up and over his hips. Wade was an odd man, not just when drunk. But it wasn’t the _bad_ kind of odd. James found him almost fun, a humorous man to be around. He knew how to dish back and give what he got. He was clearly respected, in and outside of the bar. And he was a considerate person, never pried or stuck his nose where it wasn’t wanted unless it was needed. He’d gotten most of this Intel just from watching him in ‘ _Sister-Margaret's_ ’. The time he’d spent there, he’d learnt quite a bit about most of the regular customers. One thing that they all shared though, was respect and they all looked out for one another, even if they all fought to win the cash in the Deadpool.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” the man suddenly stood up from his chair and swayed his way over as James finally buckled his jeans up. He wrapped an arm swiftly around his waist and pulled him in, their chests and stomachs pressing close. “You _love_ me calling you hot, sexy, gorgeous, a turn on, whenever I say that I love that fuckin’ ass of yours,” he wouldn’t deny or confirm it. He wouldn’t say that he loved it or hated it. It was bizarre and a heat of the moment feeling, though… it was a turn on. That was all he’d internally agree with on the matter. “When I called you _fuckable_ that one time,” his memory of that was… hot. He’d been staring at his ass then, right? When he’d been face down on the bed with Wade loosening him up for his first round. That had been immensely arousing. “You can’t deny that hot little burst of pleasure every time I say something like that,” he _could_ deny it, but it wouldn’t make it in anyway false.

“That look on your face gives you away,” _shit_. James quickly dropped his head and glanced away, a frown creasing his brows and it only deepened when he’d heard Wades’ chuckle. He wasn’t laughing _at_ him, it didn’t feel like he was making fun of him or being a dick about anything. He was teasing, friendly banter and childish mocking between friends, he’d assume. Something like what he used to do to Steve back in the good ‘ol days. “I like this adorable side of you-, can I call you adorable? I’m gonna call you adora-,” James punched him lightly with his right hand, hard enough for him to wince, but not hard enough that it’d bruise or he’d end up stumbling away in pain. “Oooooow,” he gently rubbed his bicep. “Meeeaaan,”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he reiterated Wades’ words against him, seeing the curve tugging at the corner of his mouth, pulling it up and James scoffed, a small smirk of his own gracing his lips. He was very odd, and that oddness had this… effect, this tugging sensation that pulled lightly at the soldier. He wouldn’t admit that he was growing this attachment to the man. He _couldn’t_ get attached, shouldn’t have. He knew that it wouldn’t end well, for both of them...

They stood there for a moment, just smirking at each other and the merc suddenly dipped down, roughly closing their mouths together. The soldiers’ hands reached up, winding his shoulders and neck and he was quickly picked up and thrown back to the bed, Wade leaning over him and pressing down against him with his knees keeping his legs spread. It was slightly difficult with the jeans, too constrictive, and James tried forcing the merc up, seeing the reluctance in his movements as he pulled back, but a grin beamed across his face when the soldier reached his hands down and started prying the leather apart, taking down his button fly.

They were thrown aside, his underwear going with them again and Wade was back, pressing hard down against him with his arms wrapped around his body. James groaned and arched up, roughly kissing him back and holding him tightly close with his arms wrapped around his upper half. He could feel the hardening shafts between them, feeling the heat pooling in his stomach again and the anticipation of having another round so soon after the last. He was probably still loose, maybe a little. James may have had enhanced metabolism, but it never worked in a matter of seconds after. It was a gradual process that took a few minutes to an hour to kick in.

“In, c’mon,” he muttered muffly against the merc’s mouth, hearing the faint groan and feeling the rough pressing against him, the light rocking of his pelvis. But he then drew back quickly, his eyes wide.

“Shit, that was my last condo-,”

“Fuck the condom,” he’d almost growled, his brow creasing for just a moment. “I can’t pick anything up,” he added and hooked his legs over his thighs again, drawing him closer and feeling Wade rock against him again, even though he seemed have some sense back. He was more than likely sobering up now.

“I’m clean, so you’re fine, but-... you sure?” was he really asking for polite consent right now? Sure, barebacking wasn’t very clean or completely hygienic if one of the two never washed regularly, but he was sure Wade did and he always washed himself. The jobs he usually took weren’t that clean.

“Yes,” James had almost whined, having resisted letting it slip. He watched as the merc stared, his eyes still wide, but with a different glint in his eyes than before. And soon after, he felt the man tap his legs with the word _‘Lube’_ being repeated frantically. He’d let him up and only seconds later, he stumbled back to the bed with the bottled he’d tossed earlier, during the first round. He slipped back between his legs and spread him a little wider, legs falling further apart.

There was no need to tell him that he was still probably loose, because Wade seemed to either think the same or he was aware. The lube was drawn from the bottle, the gel leaking over his palm and then it was tossed away again, the hand covered in cream being wrapped around his shaft, spreading over it and being rubbed it. James twitched at the feel of fingers against his hole again, a cold liquid being pressed and spread against him. He’d deny that he shuddered lightly and almost felt comfortably relaxed with the idea of barebacking with Wade.

“Just saying, I’ve never actually done this without a hood, but I’d imagine it’s the same,” he seemed very uncertain of his own words and James almost scoffed, not being able to as he felt the cold head of his shaft being pressed against him, slick and wet with lube. His eyes dazedly closed at the feel of him pushing in, penetrating his ring and walls and breaching through the muscles pushing back on the intrusion. It felt hot, hotter than with a condom. He moved smoother, slipping in faster and easier, and not just because James had been loose since the other round. No he glided in, no tugging from the latex, no hindrance at all and it felt so… so…

“Fuck,” he breathed, using his legs that were resting over Wades’ to pull him closer. He’d caught the faint sound of the merc chuckling again, gradually opening his eyes to see the aroused smirk on his lips.

“Sweet talker,” the man leaned down, hands returning to wrap around him and press their torsos together, rocking lightly against each other. In turn, that made it so his shaft was rocking inside of him, quick jerks of back and forth, pressing deeper and deeper each time. He couldn’t get over how fast the heat and risen, his body parts having light outbreaks of sweat.

“No, if I was sweet talkin’ you-,” James smirked up at Wade, his lips ghost against his. “I’d be telling you how much I love your-,” a loud gasp broke his sentence and concentration. His eyes slammed shut and he whined against the merc, his body shuddering and his muscles wavering. Whatever Wade had just struck, his body clearly liked it and he couldn't function for a moment.

He forced his eyes open a little and stared up at the man, seeing the wide smirk and glazed over gaze aimed at him. He gasped again, minorly this time, due to the speed up. James panted and tried rocking back on him, rolling his hips along with the thrusting. He swallowed thick and reached up, his flash hand gripping the man’s hair, lightly tugging as he pressed their mouth roughly together. He arched and groaned into his mouth, whining slightly and rutting up against him. He could feel his shirt inching up with the rocking, Wades’ body hitching it higher up with each movement. His heated abs were pressing in and rubbing against his own, their thin layer of sweat making them glide easily and seem to stick slightly. And the sweat mixing with the lube around his ring and Wades’ shaft just seemed to make them move faster, the merc seeping deeper, harder and almost slamming passed his walls of muscle.

James dropped his head back, gasping and groaning with lips suddenly attaching themselves to his neck, biting, sucking and kissing. He gripped hard at the man’s back, his fingers digging in, though he tried to be as gentle as possible with his left. Instead, with a moment to manage some thought, he pulled his metal hand from his back and fisted at the bedsheets beside his head. He didn’t want to hurt him.

The soldier whined again when he hit the same spot from before, his mind turning white for a moment. A shot of arousal was sent right through him, stinging at his nerves and forcing him to arch up against the merc. He couldn’t help but let the faint and fast breaths that panted from him, his chest falling and rising quickly. And then he’d hit it again, another whine, longer but deeper being drawn from him. Wade seemed to get faster and harder, slamming against his pelvis and hearing the faint slaps of skin on skin.

“Wade,” he groaned, his right hand digging into his back and definitely leaving marks. He could feel the muscles under his fingers tensing with the rough treatment, yet he said nothing, no protests to the pain that he knew he was inflicting. Thankfully, he’d moved his other one, or there’d be blood.

James could feel him starting to bite at his neck, the teeth digging in harder as he thrusted roughly and groaned against his skin. The sensation only added to this and the heat boiling in his stomach dropped and spread and his sac was tight and raw. His body was gradually starting to convulse, forcing himself back on the merc and Wade seemed all too eager to meet him and thrusted harder, rocking frantically with him as they groaned and whined and that same spot was a repeatedly aimed at target, hitting it each time and he eventually moaned when the heat spread so fast and hard through him, involuntarily arching him up and a stiffening against him. Wade seemed to have done the same, but he’d bitten down on him, rows of teeth sinking into the skin between his neck and shoulder.

Only seconds later and they were lying there, fangs still deep in his neck and James’ fingers still buried in his back, but they were relaxed, panting harshly and panting, chests falling and rising against each other, and the merc was still deep inside, _balls deep_. He could feel them straining while pressed against his hole, but not inside, which he was immensely thankful for.

And for the second time that night, James was panting breathlessly, on his back with a man surprisingly heavier than himself loosely and tiredly draped over him, cuddling into him as he seemed to be falling asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying this. What was your favourite part so far? In this entire story and this chapter? I loved their odd interactions, the way they talk to each other. This chapter, it had to be what Wade was saying about James wearing his shirt xD


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two characters are showing up in this chapter, and I'd really like to hear who you think one of them in. One is pretty obvious because they're going to introduce them-self, but the other is a mystery, an obvious mystery. 
> 
> Let me know who you think it is :)

That was different. The sensation, the power and energy. It’d felt different from the other two times. There was more feeling and atmosphere. James knew that it hadn’t been love making, which he was thankful that they weren’t doing. It was all sex, no strings attached, but that had been… different. He couldn’t explain what he’d felt. He’d assume it was because of the lack of a condom and that he’d hit his prostate more than a few times. The spot was a pile of over-sensitive, static nerves, so that was his only theory.

James sighed and used his weight to swap their positions again, though this time, he rolled Wade off until they were both lying on their sides. The merc was out of it, asleep by the look of him. He was limp, eyes closed and breathing easy and calm. Clearly asleep.

James eyed him, shifting his arm until it was bent under him, cradling his head. He stood by his statement that this man was odd in almost every aspect of the word, but not… in a bad way. He was strange, but his _‘strange’_ was… drawing. He was spontaneous, unpredictable, random, and almost whimsical. It was… fun. James had had enough of predictability, expecting something and having to be prepared, knowing what would happen, or what would be said. He hated ‘ _knowing_ ’. But he had to. He had to know. He had to be prepared, especially with who he was. Preparation and expectation were two of his many weapons. Always thinking ahead, because he was _prepared_. He _expected_.

He wanted some unpredictability in his life, as long as no one got hurt or he wasn’t caught off guard. But then… that was the problem. If he was caught off guard, Wade would be the one hurt, or worse if it'd been HYDRA.

James couldn’t have unpredictability.

The soldier let a sigh ease out through his nose and pushed himself to stand, grimacing at the wet feeling between his legs. He hadn’t told Wade not to release inside or anything, that was his fault.

James stepped a few feet away and grabbed his underwear and trousers from the floor, slipping into the former before the latter and then he belted them up, keeping a steady eye on the man still currently sleeping. He’d cover him with a blanket before leaving. It was only polite instead of just leaving him lying there naked. Could catch a cold or something.

The soldier grabbed the hem of his borrowed shirt and straightened it out over his hips, letting it hang a little lower than that. He hadn’t realised how much bigger Wade had actually been until then. He was taller, almost by a full head, and he was wider by a few inches, toned muscle covering him. He was clearly large compared, so the shirt would be incredibly baggy on him. And it was.

He wasn’t meant to feel a faint satisfaction in wearing one of the man’s thick, warm shirts. Even more so when he recalled Wades earlier words about him looking good in it, a _turn on_. He still wouldn’t admit out loud that it was a turn on to be called one, everything the man had called him caught him off guard and went straight through him to his groin.

James huffed and grabbed his boots, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake him. He slipped his shoes on, tying the laces before slipping his jeans over the upper half and standing again. He wasted a moment, glancing around until he saw the ruffled, unfolded fleecy blanket on the egg-shaped seat Wade been sat in before, flattened out and shaped almost egg-ish from the man having sat on it, but the looks of it. He stepped over and grabbed it, stepping back to flick it out, straightening and draping it over the still sleeping man.

He took a glance towards Wade, watching him with soft eyes before moving away and grabbing his ignored semen and sweat covered shirt. He picked it up, grimacing slightly before heading over to the door, where his jacket lay forgotten.

He dropped his shirt just for a second to slip the jacket on and then zipped it up, picking up Wades’ too and then dropping it on the nearby seat. James then grabbed the shirt and balled it up in his hand before silently opening the door and then closing it behind him just as quietly, no sound leaving anything he touched and no sound coming from him as he disappeared down the hallway, turning at the square-spiral staircase.

\----------

Circling his nearby blocks a series of times had told him that he hadn’t been followed, no one had been on his trail and it made it easier for James to relax as he dropped across the length of his sofa, ankles crossed over the arm of the chair with his head heavily resting on one of the large cushions that came with the couch in the safehouse.

He’d admit that the sex actually might be good for him. He was docile, more relaxed and calmly focused. His mind wasn’t as clouded. James could think without over thinking and he seemed to have better nights sleep after the release of excess energy and adrenaline that constantly pumped through his veins. Wade had quieted his mind and body. Even while completely focused and senses on high alert, he was calm, could relax and still be ready for anything. It was new, a type of _‘new’_ he liked.

James took a breath and subtly ran his flesh hand up the sleeve of his left arm, feeling the soft warmth on his palm. His motion was slow, deliberate and he’d only caught himself doing it after he reached the metal bicep, his thumb shifting back and forth before he huffed and turned over, facing the back cushions of the sofa with his arms crossed against his chest, his hands tucked against his ribs, almost looking like he was hugging himself.

Tomorrow he’d go for a laundry run, for the cleaners where he could actually get a few things done, specifically that semen shirt, so he could give this one back when they met at the bar again-... _-When-_... Had he really deemed it inevitable that they’d end up meeting at the bar again? Maybe end up in bed together again? Why was that even a thought?

James swiftly turned onto his back, arms still crossed over his chest as he stared irritatedly at the grimy ceiling. Fortunately, he hadn’t been over thinking anything, no, but he was thinking of things he shouldn’t be. The lack of over thinking led him to think of other things to fill that space in mind. It was irking him in this early morning funk.

He needed to _not_ think, to let his mind ease for a few goddamn minutes. And eventually, he had. James just stared at the ceiling, feeling his eyelids grow heavy and his breathing alter just a fraction until he was relaxed enough to fall asleep right there.

\----------

The laundrette was thankfully clear bar for maybe three other people, including the desk worker at the other end of the room. No one seemed to question him as he stepped in with a duffle bag filled with his clothes, the shirt and Wades’ at the bottom of said bag.

He’d set it down on the table-bench in the centre, having noted the few empty machines in one area and set about tossing the clothes into one. He had the necessities to wash them in the bag as well and just placed them next to it for when he was done. James had been about to grab the shirt when the lady across the bench from him stared-... or, no. She wasn’t staring, but just seemed to be directed his way, her head. She was wearing dark glasses, a cane next to her, that clearly told him all he really needed to know, that she _couldn’t_ actually see. She’d paused halfway through sorting out her own clothes. His brow creased for just a moment before he stood a tad straighter.

“Here,” she reached into her bag, a shoulder bag at her feet and she’d tossed something at him. He caught it easily and frowned before opening his hand to see the different clothing cleaner square to what he’d normally use. It was small, felt like jelly behind the thin, plastic-ish outter-cover. “It’s for the _shirt_ ,”

James stood there for a moment, struck solidly still as he eyed her with a slightly wider gaze. She knew? Had she been watching him? Had she been following him?

“Thanks,” he responded flatly, his tone emotionless. He could see the faint traces of a smirk on her lips, a little curved at the very edge like she was hiding it. James swallowed subtly and grabbed the shirt, quickly wrapping it around the little cleaner-blob-thing, and then he’d tossed it into the washing machine along with the rest of his clothes. He stuck in the right amount of money and then closed the window-door, watching as it started up. He took a step back, and then another and sat back against the table, leaning carefully against it as he crossed his arm and just watched.

It was all he could really do. He didn’t like the thought of leaving his things here and sitting in the cafe across the way to wait it out, nor was he fond of the idea of just idly staying for about an hour and a bit on both the washing and drying machines. It was risky, though that thought was probably his paranoia.

His heart skipped when the bell above the door chimed, his eyes darting over to see a man stepping in, no big deal really. He seemed normal, middle-aged, maybe early thirties, late thirties. Dark hair, well built. He seemed maybe as large as Wade, maybe a little narrower on the waist, less curvy, and instead sharper. He had dark sideburns, leading down into muttonchops stopping at both sides of his mouth, thinner stubble on his chin on his upper lip.

The man didn’t seem to notice anything as he stepped over to the same isle as James and just went about his business of sorting out his clothes. He glanced away and to his own machine, watching the spin-cycle with bored but sharp eyes. His senses were still on high alert, even in a building where he wasn’t even sure on if he even needed to be.

He swallowed thickly and let an easy breath out, clenching his jaw a few times. James glanced down at his left hand, staring at the band that was around the wrist and unhooked his arms to slip it off over the glove, reaching up behind him to tie his hair up in a loose tail. He rolled his shoulders, hearing the very faint ‘ _whir_ ’ of his left as it lifted.

His plans for the day was washing and drying clothes, reading through his notebooks to see if any other memory decides to appear, like maybe he could trigger one and then maybe he’d clean up a bit and order pizza, maybe even return to the bar later in the afternoon. He still had to give Wade his shirt back after he’d wash it. James paused in his thought as he caught someone walking closer, the supposedly blind woman that had giving him the cleaner-blob. He turned his head just a little as she paused next to him, staring ahead as he just leaned against the table, arms re-crossed after tying his hair.

“Seltzer water and lemon juice works too,” the very faint smirk was back, like she knew what had happened to get the shirt into that kind of mess.

“Thank you, it’s good to know,” he answered with mild uncertainty, watching her closely from the corner of his eyes. Even though she seemed blind, she still seemed to know where everything was and what she was doing. Her senses must’ve changed when she’d lost her sight, or maybe she never had it to begin with. She had the air of _‘knowing’_ around her, about her.

“What’s your name?” she asked casually, her head tilting just a bit with her stick out ahead of her. He’d been answering with James for some time, not long after he’d remembered it, and he’d answered to it whenever the name came up, which was rarely ever, thankfully. So, it wasn’t that hard to answer with it since it was still a common name.

“James,” he replied simply, still watching her from the corner of his eyes as he multitasked with seeming as if he was still staring at the washing machine.

“Nice to meet you, James. Not from around here?” how did she know that? Did he seem off? James tilted his head towards her, now obviously watching her and noticeably chatting with her to others.

“That obvious?” he responded as casually as he could, his brow wanting to crease with a frown as his senses and guard sharpened, his shoulders tightening and his body gradually getting tenser and stiff.

“No, not obvious. You’re just really jittery. You a Vet? Just got back?” a Vet, a veteran, military. He must’ve had the air of a man from war, probably still in it from his actions and guard. He let a sigh pass through his lips, his body easing a fraction or two. He’d calmed himself just a bit, forcing the stiffness away.

“I’m still in a war, ma’am,” he answered truthfully, turning his gaze back towards the spinning clothes. The timer said ten minutes, ten long minutes and quite some time had passed already, which was mildly surprising.

“Aren’t we all,” she muttered, sounding as if she’d said it in general to him directly. Her hand suddenly reached out, palm to the side and facing him. “Al,” her name then.

“Pleasure,” he spoke roughly, his own hand, the metal one reaching out to carefully grip hers before lightly shaking in greeting.

“You got one hell of a grip there, James,” her lip curved on one side, turning slightly crooked before giving him a squeeze, and then another and then letting go to turn away to her own machine. He’d caught the quiet ‘beeping’ of it, which she probably did too, and she began walking away. “Doesn’t even seem real,”

James swallowed and took a breath, turning his head back to the machine he’d been using. He could then feel the eyes on him, not obvious or completely hidden and it drew his attention, causing the crease in his brow to grow and he carefully glanced to the side, the man from before. He was subtly looking at him, his own brow furrowed, drew in and pointed down at the centre and he was being just as careful for no one else to notice. He was trained, maybe a Military man as well? No, something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What d'you think? Enjoy? You have any ideas on who the character is? Let me know!! And what was your favourite part? For me, it was the talk about him being a Vet, that he was still in his own war.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while for this chapter. I didn't think I'd leave it for that long. 
> 
> I'm trying to finish Who's The Daddy as fast as I can with a great helping hand and because of that, I missed a few days that I had ready to work on this. Don't worry, I'm still working on it and you'll definitely have great chapters from me :) I actually have a few kinky idea already written down for when these guys get into it again.

He was thankful when he finally got out of the launderette, a dufflebag of clean clothes having from his shoulder.

As soon as he was back at the safehouse, James dropped it in his room and just… stood there, staring at it, no thoughts in his mind, because he didn’t know what to do. The lady, the blind one. She didn’t seem at all bothered by him, his grip, or his outward demeanour. She was just polite, and then there was that guy. The one with muttonchops. He’d stared at him for a good few minutes, and his eyes, the _way_ he stared was like he was trying to figure him out. He’d clearly heard him and the old lady talking, even if it was just about being a soldier and what he’d said about still being at War. He didn’t stare at him like he was being suspicious or anything, nothing hostile. It was more… learning, searching, calculating. He’d been trying to figure him out.

James huffed and decided against reading through his notebooks, thinking that maybe he’d just get something to eat and then go to the bar. Or maybe he could get something to eat _at_ the bar. There was a vending machine there.

Nah, he needed a hot meal. It was still sort of early afternoon, about lunchtime for workers. He could just get a burger at a burger van near the bar. He knew a few that lingered around there for the drunken regulars that came out.

He let a sigh slip his lips and threaded his fingers through his hair before he slipped his cap on and turned away from his bedroom before heading over to the front door, keys in hand to lock it after he closed it behind him. He quickly headed down the winding stairs, a few flights and slipped out unnoticed, being careful as he entered the public again.

And a few calculating glanced around told him that he was still safe, no trackers or HYDRA and SHIELD on his ass. He wasn’t too sure as to why they didn’t follow him here, when they easily followed him through Russia not too long ago, a place that James was too familiar with and could use the entire environment to his advantage. But this, this place was just like any other place in New York, so why? He should’ve seen at least one or two agents.

\----------

About ten to fifteen minutes later, James found himself stepping around the corner to the burger van just half a yard away, in the open with a few construction workers and two or three of the regulars from the bar hanging around it. No one seemed to notice him heading over, his head tilted a little down to hide his face, just in case.

He got closer and closer until he rounded to the front of the van, casually reaching into his ass pocket for his wallet. The smell of the greasy burgers and hotdogs and all the bacon and melting cheese hit his nose from a mile away, and even though it was a horribly fattening meal, he hadn’t had one in a while and the scent was drawing. He remembered something about it ages ago, back in Brooklyn when he was Bucky. He remembered that diner that sold grease in a bun, not literal, but the food they sold was almost exactly like the food sold at these vans, and they were too delicious. A fondness for greasy travel meals that hadn’t been taken from him.

“How can I help ya?” the big guy behind the metal, heated table asked after giving a wrapped up hotdog to one of the drunkards from the bar.

“Cheesy burger, please. Everything on it,” he asked politely, voice gritty and deep and the smell of a few things hitting the table with a burning hiss was great, the sound and smell hitting him fast.

“Cumin’ right up, pal,” he’d said as he grabbed the buns while everything burned on the metal heater. He didn’t need to wait long at all, a couple of fast minutes and he was watching the big guy plastering everything to the inside of the bread buns, the thick, meaty slab between everything, the two slices of cheese, one of both sides with all that veg and onions, and two different sauces inside. It looked great.

He pulled out the money, having noted how much he’d need from the black-board behind the big guy and the lady on the other side of the van. He swapped the money with the huge burger on the plastic plate (it needed a plate ‘cause of how big it was) and waited only a few seconds as the guy got the change and right after he had it, given to him with a big, greasy smile, he stepped away towards an empty open table a few feet away, two table away from the construction workers.

He relaxed, keeping his eyes ahead with his back to the nearby wall and he reached to the plate, grabbing the burger easily with both hands. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of those burgers that fell apart, instead it was all completely solid wasn’t dripping or falling to pieces. He took a bite, digging in hard to the meaty beef to break it. He chewed and could feel the heat and warmth spreading as the delicious taste blew his tastebuds to hell and back. It was hot, scolding and the actual taste was so great he wanted to moan.

“Good choice,” he didn’t jump. James glanced up at the guy standing in front of his table, wade standing there with a grin on his face, a genuine smile and the soldier gave a polite one back before taking another bite. “Best burgers you'll find,”

“Correction. There’s a diner in Brooklyn, Bourne-Teaplace. Burgers that make your mouth literally water,” he remembered introducing Steve to place not long after becoming best friends with him. They were kids and their mothers took them to the Teaplace. It was fun.

“You’re from Brooklyn? How’d you find yourself in a place like this?” he was referring to the fact that Brooklyn was surprisingly a lot nicer than this part of New York. It had a few gold medals from town-events and Town-contests, like, _which part of the city is the best_ , or something like that. There were never contests back in the 1940s or even before that, so it was relatively new to him.

“Speaking of _finding_ , are you stalking me?” he questioned as a joke and afterthought since the man was there and now sitting on the corner of the bench where James was. He’d sat close, enough to be able to sling an arm around his shoulder, though he didn’t. He just sat familiarly close, platonic in a friends sense.

“Maybe,” he replied with a chuckle and a leering smirk, drawing a familiar scoff from him in amusement. “Nah, just saw you on my way to _Sisters_ ’. Decided to say hey,” Wade shoulder bumped him, James being thankful it was his flesh arm instead of the metal. “So, hey,” the soldier scoffed again and stared at his plate as the growth in heat fluttered in his chest.

“Hey,” was this what friends did? He’d remembered this with Steve, and maybe a friend or two other than the scrawny kid. And the Commandos after being freed from Schmidt during WWII. James bit into his burger again, chewing strongly at the thick meat.

“You’re not wearing my shirt,” he’d almost hummed in question before registering what he’d gestured towards and took a quick glance at the man. He chewed faster and swallowed, feeling it go down his throat a bit rougher at the quickened pace.

“I washed it. It’s back at my place,” he spoke calmly and took a smaller bite, not wanting to rush the delicious, but heavily greasy meal.

“Totally gave it to you to wear everywhere,” Wade made it sound like he actually _gave_ it to him, to keep. He didn’t want to keep his clothes, they were the mercs and he’d rather not use other people's clothing because there’d be DNA on them. HYDRA and SHIELD had the means of testing clothes that he may have worn, and if they found Wade… and it was sort of intimate to be wearing other people's garments, it was just sex with no strings attached. It made him feel like there _were_ strings between them.

And it needed to be cleaned anyway. They had another round right after he slipped into it, so it was covered in sweat and probably had a few come stains here and there.

“Regardless, it still needed to be washed since we had sex right after I put it on,” he commented with another bite of the burger, wiping his lips with the thumb of his flesh hand as the sauce smeared for a moment before supping at it and then going back to chewing.

“I know, that was _too fuckin’ great_ ,” the way he’d said it made it sound like he’d just imagined their time together or something. The groan that he’d let out with ‘fuckin’ great’ had been maybe a confirmation that he’d thought about it, re-living it for a few seconds in his head. James had resisted thinking about it, the second time where Wade had been drunk and was holding him to the bed by his biceps.

“I admit, you’re not bad,” he unnoticeably smirked at the reminder, the tease coming off of his lips easily, as if to rile him up just a bit. Like the first time they actually talked, Wade had been trying to rile him, but _couldn’t_ , he hadn’t been able to because of how _impassive_ he’d been and still was.

“ _Not bad_? Ouch,” the merc feigned hurt, his hand on his chest where his heart was and he was giving him a mildly amused pout, like he couldn’t pout without laughing or smirking. And as though he figured that out, he dropped it and pointed at him with a completely smug smile. “Need I remind you that we’ve ended up in the horizontal-tango three times, and each time I’ve made you cream that b.e.a.utiful white froth from that b.e.a.utiful piece of flesh between those gorgeous thighs,” and to top it off, he’d _winked_ at him, which cause just a bit of heat to rise on his chest and on his face. The words he’d used, horizontal-tango, cream, white froth, the flesh between his legs, and gorgeous thighs. He’d used the most the words as simple ammunition against him, knowing he’d react, even when they weren’t spoke with lewd tones and no sexual heat behind them.

They just hit a few nerves that made him warmer and made him stop to think. They brought out his thoughts on what they’d done and Wade knew it.

“Okay, point taken,” he finally conceded, a light shake of his head making a few strands of his hair slip from behind his ear. James instantly curled it back, repositioning his hat again to keep his hair in place.

“You’re blushing,” the soldiers’ brow creased for a moment as he paused, a straining smirk growing just a bit noticeable for anyone to see and he tried pulling it back, trying to reign it in with much difficulty.

“I’m not blushing,” he replied flatly, the smirk still begrudgingly there.

“You totally are, _and_ you’re smiling,” he wasn’t helping, _Wade wasn’t helping_ the matter. He was making him smile even more, teasing him with it and he was adamant that he didn’t like it. His brain told him not to, but...

“I’m not,” James insisted, even with the evidence clearly portrayed on his damn face.

“Sort of, you _sort of_ are,” the merc nodded next to him and he’d tilted his head to watch him as Wade swung around where he sat, now facing him with a knee behind him and under the table, knocking his own knee. “There’s a little curve, right _here_ ,” James had resisted flinching away and stopping him as he gently poked at the curve of his lip, the warm pad of his finger just dabbing right at the corner.

He didn’t like it… not that they seemed so… open with each other and they allowed the touches and teasing and jokes. James… _liked_ it, because it was new, something spontaneous and refreshing and warm and almost comforting. It was Wade, and there was just something about him that drew him in. He didn’t seem to care about what happened or what was wrong with him, he respected boundaries without having to tell him what they were. He caught on quick and actually seemed to want to be something with him, friends, friends-with-benefits maybe. Whatever was going on between them… it was…

It was something that would get Wade killed and get him caught again.

“Want a bite?” he deflected, gesturing to his still warm burger as he inched it closer.

“Definitely,” and Wade fucking knew he was trying to distract him. The merc had inched closer rather fast and kissed him, James’ body stiffening and becoming so rigid in less than a second, even with the warmth spreading in his chest as he felt his lips shift against his own, hot and moist and again, the soldier was drawn. He gradually started returning it, shifting his mouth in response. It was warm, comforting and Wade shifting just a bit closer, his legs now around him with his thighs pressing against him, only made it warmer. He made a faint sound, nothing displeasurable or anything, it in fact made the merc press closer again, a hand moving to rest against the small of his back under his jackets, but atop his shirt.

He held back the disappointed sigh as Wade pulled back a mildly victorious smile on his face. He purposely paused, taking a few seconds of silence and taking in James’ slightly _taken-off-guard_ expression before he shifted his eyes to the food he’d gestured to before the kiss.

“ _Oh_ , you were talking about the burger,” he feigned realization and grinned, pausing again to watch him, the grin turning into a crooked and smug smirk. “You’re blushing again,” _dammit, Wade_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed. What'd you think? What was your favourite part? I'd like to know!! xD 
> 
> Was it Wade being Wade? That was my favourite. The whole 'horizontal-tango' had me laughing while I was writing it out, just the entire line xD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late again, no excuses. I'm a shitty person, but here you go, another somewhat awesome chapter. No sex, but there's stuff.

Talking, they were actually just talking, casually, friendly, like they were pals. James couldn’t really remember the last time he’d just _-talked-_ to someone, about everything and anything, instead of killing them or leaving them to die or taking them back to HYDRA for a punishment. Wade had a mouth on him, could talk anyone out. If there was a contest for it, the merc would win. The soldier barely said a word, he listened, focused on everything around them as they headed to the bar, keeping a sharp eye as the rounded corners, but he kept an ear on the other man, hearing him talk about this pizza guy he scared the shit out of the other day, a stalker. It was funny, he even scoffed and let a smile pass his lips. And it was genuine.

When was the last time he really smiled? After HYDRA, before meeting this guy… _Meeting this gu_ -, he didn’t even know James’ name. He never gave it to him. He knew Wade, the man gave him his name as soon as they got started in this… sexually beneficial thing. But the merc never asked his, and he never said it… why hadn’t he asked yet? Was it a way for Wade to keep it professional? To keep a distance? No, the guy gave him his shirt, that was an intimate act.

James slowed down physically, stopping on the sidewalk with his eyes facing down and his eyebrows creased. He should tell him. Three times, three times they ended up in bed together, feeling each other, being pressed and hot against each other, sweating and kissing and biting and Wade being inside him and-

“Hey, you okay?” James snapped his gaze up to the mercs, his cap not getting in the way of seeing him. He eyed him, swallowing his drying throat. He guessed that it was a better time than any. Not sooner better than later, because it _was_ later.

“James,” he finally said, watching as the guy raised a brow at him, giving him a once over until he was sure, by the tilt in his head, that he got what he meant, he understood. A smile grew across his features, a wide genuine one and he stepped over, getting closer until he was about a foot away, grinning down at him.

“You really don’t get how many names I went through in my head to attach to your damn fine face,” Wade reached his hand out, palm to the side in greeting. “Nice to meet you, James,” just to  seem polite and humour him, he returned the gesture, letting him shake his hand before re-pocketing them and standing there only a few inches apart from him. He didn’t care too much about their space, his and Wades. They’d already been so physically close to each other that it’d be stupid to worry about it at this point.

“I gotta hear these names,” he let a small smile grace his own lips, actually _feeling curious_ about what he could’ve come up with as he saw his face, or imagined him as being labelled. He had a few aliases that seemed to suit him fine for appearance purposes, and if Wades’ were any good, he may use them when he inevitably ends up on the run again.

“Okay, first, answer me this-,” James internally scoffed at the sudden excitement in his tone and eyes. He seemed to really want to know the answer to whatever he wanted to ask. “-are you like… related to the 107th Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes or something? One of the Howling Commandos from 1944 and 45?” and just like that, his insides turned cold at the question. His heart stuttered and he felt the dark shudder running up his spine.

“Why d’you ask?” he managed to keep his emotion hidden, his thoughts silent and his own mouth in check as he spoke. He made it seem as if the question hadn’t bothered him in any way, as if he were oblivious to it and didn’t quite understand why he’d question him on Sergeant Bucky Barnes.

“It’s just… I’ve seen a few pictures and I even went to the Smithsonian a few times years ago. You look… you’re like the spitting image of him, and hell, you’re even called James. I’m just curious, because I’m a bit of a fanboy of his. He’s a hero, you know?” a hero… Bucky was a hero. He’d served, he’d been a trigger happy man with the reputation of a highly regarded enforcer and protector, because he’d killed so many other men in the war, Nazis. Other men with families that laid down their lives for a lunatic. He remembered his own thoughts on the matter, as Bucky himself all those years ago. James had heard his own voice in his head, telling himself that he wasn’t a hero.

James knew that’d he’d been a killer, a murderer even before becoming the Winter Soldier. The ones he’d killed. They weren’t innocent, none of them. They had family, children, and they were still the guilty ones.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t answer. I really don’t mi-,”

“Why,” he cut him off, his tone flat and dry. James instantly knew that he may have had a grim or dark expression on his face, because he’d only needed to look at the man to see the concerned eyes and creased brows. He was watching him with an uneasy look, but not for himself. It was directed towards James, for James. Wade was thinking of him rather than himself. And it made him want to know _why_. _Why_ he’d put the Winter Soldier before himself. Why he seemed to try and help him and respect him and opening himself up for James. Steve would’ve been the only one to try and he was sure that he’d try to baby him too, making him feel uncomfortable. But Wade, he was… he was taking it slow, trying to help him over time. Did he know? About him? Who he was?.

“Why?” the merc asked in return, questioning the question.

“Why’re you respecting my boundaries,” he decided to ask instead, not wanting to screw up his cover just yet. He was too cautious, he understood that, but it was better to be too cautious than dead. “Why? Why are you… going out of your way to make… to make me feel… comfortable,” he finally found the right word. Comfortable. Going through his own thoughts and memories of him and Wade, that was the only word that he could really use, other than _safe_. They talked, they had fun. The merc went out of his way to make him feel incredible during sex. And after it, they’d chat, though one time, Wade fell asleep. He’d even talked about putting up a cover for him to change behind, to make him feel at ease while there. He was… he was being polite, kind. He’d been thoughtful and gentle with him in so many different ways, and now that he’d actually thought about it, it was almost overwhelming him “Stop being nice to me,” James’ voice grew quieter, softer… _weaker_.

He’d jerked a fraction, his breathing hitching at the feel of large hands pressing against his shoulders, giving a squeeze through his jackets. The soldier eyed him carefully and with a rather grim, distressing glint in his gaze. He didn’t _feel_ , he shouldn’t. But the cold beat in his chest was calling him, telling him to stay quiet and not reply and not let Wade get to him.

“No can do,” the merc let a very fine smile tug at his lips, the corner turning up a fraction, but he still had the concerned edgy to his expression. He was attempting to comfort, maybe. In his own way.

“Why,” he dropped his gaze and stared at the man’s jacket covered chest, taking in the deep red with the white fur lines. It must’ve been warm under it and he was aware that he constantly wore it, so it must’ve be nice… _A terrible choice for a self-distraction_.

“Because I’d like to keep you as a friend?” Wade made it sound as if he were asking James. Or was it more of a ‘ _duh_ ’ tone? Rhetorical, maybe? He wasn’t sure himself. But either way, he couldn’t have _friends_. Who he was-is, and what he’d done was the problem.

“I don’t deserve it,” he lightly shook his head, his movement dripping big dismal and self-loathing drops.

“Bullshit,” James snapped his gaze up, his brow furrowed and pointed down in the centre while he stared at the taller man, eyeing him with a now guarded exterior. He could see the flat expression on the merc, the way he just seemed so unconcerned about what he said or how he’d take it. He was as calm as ever, no frown or smile, he just… stood there, with his hands on James and just stared, as if expecting him to reply. But all he could really retort with was-

“What?” and then there was a pause, Wade swallowing and looking over James shoulder. It wasn’t a tell or anything, like he was scoping out the area. It was more of pause for thought.

“Bullshit,” he shrugged, returning his gaze to James’. “Everyone needs friends. Everyone deserves friends,” the soldier didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t. He still had the label of Winter Soldier and it would follow him to his grave. “If people didn’t have friends, they wouldn’t have anyone to turn to if they needed help, or needed someone to talk to, or just to have fun with, to fuck around with and joke with. They’re called friends for a reason,” he said it with… an _honest_ feel, _genuine_ in what he decided to say. It was as if he believed his own words with a strong sense of trust and hope. It was grim to think that he couldn’t consider them. He wouldn’t. They’d lead him to ruin. He couldn’t hope, or trust or have faith, he… one mistake and everything could fall around him.

“And from what I’ve seen of you, and the way you are… you need someone to talk to without even realizing it yourself,” he didn’t. He couldn’t. “But I’m not gonna push you, that’s one thing friends don’t do,” friends. Did he consider them that? Wade maybe saw them as pals, buds, _friends_ , but James shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have considered it, shouldn’t have made a connection to the man.

“I-... I _can’t_ have friends, Wade,” he hated how weak his tone made him, the slightly higher pitch, bordering on distress and hurt rom hearing himself say it. “The last friend I had, my _best_ friend… I tried to kill him,” he muttered, his voice wavering before he swallowed around the dryness in his mouth and throat. “He was tryin’ ta help me and I nearly killed him,” James’ tone was weak, a whisper with a few falters. He couldn’t control his own voice as he stared up at the merc with wide, wet eyes. He wouldn’t cry, but the thoughts, memories and nightmares made him imagine the face, Steve’s half destroyed face after he punched him over and over and broke him and-... He wouldn’t cry. They were just glossier.

“Why didn’t you?” his breathing hitched again and he stared, just stared, his adam's-apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He never figured that out. He barely remembered anything from that day, just beating the fuck out of him and then pulling him out of the water, the bridge battle. The redhead and man with wings. The Triskelions fall. Pierce and the STRIKE team.

“I-... I don’t… know,” James wavered again, dropping his gaze. He was becoming compromised, his breathing, his heartbeat, his mind and thoughts. He wasn’t calm, he wasn’t in control. He needed control.

“Why’d you try to kill him in the first place,” Pierce. Captain Steve Rogers, Avenger. He was his mission, given by the head of SHIELD and HYDRA at the time. The man that hit him after he’d _questioned_ him that once. And he was then forced into the chair.

“I-... I was ordered to. He was my mission,” a clip flashed in his mind, of James repeatedly punching the Captain, over and over and over, with the man bloody and bruised, being pummelled. Blood from his face stuck to the metal of his knuckles. ’ _You’re- punch -my- punch -mission- punch’._ “I failed,” - _then finish it_ -

“Why’d you fail,” he knew the right questions, what Wade was asking. He knew which ones to ask, to get him to talk, and yet he knew that the merc wasn’t HYDRA or SHIELD. He hadn’t done any background checks or anything, but he didn’t have the air of either, didn’t have the attitude or posture and he knew that the Director of SHIELD wouldn’t draw in a mercenary like Wade to baby-sit the Winter Soldier. He’d have had the Black Widow, or Hawkeye do it. And he was sure that Steve would’ve thrown himself at James as soon as he found out that they maybe had a lead. And he would’ve found out no matter what. It was who Steve was. So this man wasn’t SHIELD. And he was being too comforting and nice and stupidly amazing to James, everything HYDRA wasn’t.

“I didn’t finish the mission. He’s still alive,” - _‘cause I’m with ya ‘til the end of the line_ \- he lightly shook his head at the vow, trying to shake it from his current thoughts.

“You failed _their_ mission,” he did. And there were repercussions for failing, another reason why he wanted to get away. They’d destroy him, emotionally, they’d reprimand him, punish him. “Not yours,” … not his? What did he...

“The mission was given to m-,” he frowned.

“That doesn’t make it yours,” Wade cut in and it just made the frown grow, his brow creasing deeply as he stared at the taller man, curious, suspicious and confused. “Give _yourself_ a goal, a mission,” he wouldn’t know what to give. What order would he give himself? What kind of request was that? _Give himself a mission_. It was… a wiser statement than he’d thought, it sounded like something that’d come from an old man with too much experience in war, but Wade had said it, with feeling, a genuine smile on his lips as he’d said it and it really made him think. But of what? What could he have said? What goal would he have set for himself?

“What do you want?” James slowly dropped his frown, letting it dissipate until he had a smooth, calm expression. He watched the merc, watched his eyes flicker back and forth from all over the soldiers face as he just stared… _gazed_. James let a calm breathe leave his lips, opening them just a bit and seeing the mercs eyes slip down to follow the motion.

And once they looked back up, into James’ own eyes, he reached up, pulling his hat off and then he’d leaned in, pressing his lips to Wades’ who then responded as soon as they were attached, his arms lacing his upper waist and shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed. Let me know what you think and what your favourite part was :) It really has to be how much emotion Wade can make him feel in a span of a few minutes. I really love this pairing, they're great and have so much potential. Please let me know what you thought, this is a very precious story to me and it'd be really appreciated :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, another chapter, and there's sexy stuff in this one, added tags to prove it, guys xD I managed to make it hotter, and it's gonna get steamier because of these ideas that are swimming around in my head. 
> 
> And like always, enjoy, and if you have questions or suggestions, please hit me up and let me know :) If there's something you want to see (that's not Wade being bottom) I'll try and make it happen.

James pressed his forehead against the cold alley wall, trying to stay quiet while panting heavily. It was harder than he’d thought when they’d wordlessly agreed to do this, their hands and mouths having spoken for them.

He gasped as Wade thrusted in brutally and more than likely bruising him inside. He felt his teeth biting at the crook of his neck, definitely leaving a mark that would fade not long later. The merc was hard and fast, rolling his own body and pressing roughly into him while he was being held to the wall, hands on his wrists and chest pushing against his back. They were standing and his body was working hard to keep still. He wasn’t shaking or anything, his legs weren’t about to give out and he _definitely_ wasn’t in pain or cold, what with his pants having been slipped down to mid-thigh and his strained erection was near the freezing cold wall, he should’ve been. This was oddly kinky, what with the _Semi-Public Sex_ feel to it.

James tightened his lips together and groaned quietly as he seemed to get just that bit deeper inside of him, rocking harder and harder and managing to pressing rougher more aggressively into the wall, practically balls deep already.

“This… was a _totally_ great idea,” he heard the merc muffle into his neck after dislodging his teeth. He felt him press his face into his hair and head, at the back, and he could just barely reply, letting a scoff out that sounded like a breathy laugh. Wade pulled back and slammed back in, continuing his rough and fast rhythm, and James pushed back just as he did it again and he could feel the heat from his hot groin pressing in, his tight sac brushing against the very top of his inner back thighs.

He felt his grip on his wrist loosen, both of them sliding down his forearms and then down his ribs and waist until he reached his hips, where he stopped and held, Wade’s fingers tucking and tightening on him. James gasped again, mouth falling open and eyes closing tight as the merc pulled his pelvis back hard, landing him even rougher as he thrusted forward. It felt great, breathtaking almost. The mix of pleasure and pain.

He did it again and again, pulling him back just as he pushed in and it’d became a nearly unfocused rhythm, barely any fluidity there. It was just Wade trying to get off, obviously trying to get James there too, and it was working. The roughness, the strong, powerful thrusts and impalement. The hot sparking and tightening in his stomach was burning into the pit of his groin, spreading and twisting and turning there.

He was gasping, breathing harshly along with the just as harsh thrusts, feeling his body clenching and tensing and being angled every few times for a better _input_ from Wade. He was hot, very light outbreaks of sweat from their actions making him heat up. The sparking burns in his stomach and groin and the warmth radiating from around them only built up, fast. It was growing with every fierce thrust, the hot hands on his waist, the heat of the harsh panting at the back of his neck and the thought that they may be caught was exhilarating.

“C’mon, James,” he heard Wade’s breathy urge, the puffs of air hitting the back of his neck through his hair. His tone was almost forcing him over, but the fact that he’d actually said his name in that voice was incredible. His nerves shuddered and tingled, and his muscles spasmed and clenched and he’d tilted his head to press it against Wade’s as he clenched again and gasped as he slammed in again.

James felt the heat spread in seconds and he was releasing over the wall he was braced against, untouched and panting. He didn’t go limp or anything as the merc continued his thrusting, still pushing and pulling hard. The soldier panted and still gasped with each one, and then a thought came to mind, something that he knew would more than likely surprise the merc, since he hadn’t done it and hadn’t really planned on himself.

James reached his flesh hand behind him, grabbing at one of his forearms and managing to slow him by gripping harder than necessary.

“Wade, hang on,” he panted, feeling him slow fast, though strained, like he was having to force himself still.

“What? What’s wrong?” thankfully, he didn’t sound angry, a little concerned maybe. James huffed and easily slipped from the man’s hold, letting his hooded erection slip out as well. James then swiftly turned around and dropped to his knees, not even glancing up to see Wade’s reaction as he pulled the condom off and then just tossed it to the side. His flesh, gloveless hand reached out and grabbed at his base, hearing the quiet hitch in the merc’s breath before he started stroking with a firm, tight but careful grip. He rubbed once, then twice, then three times and swallowed before leaning forward without a thought and covered the head of his shaft, ignoring the taste and feel as he went out of his way to do this.

James sucked, slipping his tongue under it and then to the side, opening his mouth just a bit to breathe through it. He must’ve looked like quite a sight, because Wade’s breathing faltered, and he knew he wasn’t doing much with the first attempt at a blowjob, so it’d have to be the way he’d looked.

He took a hefty inhale and covered the head completely again before gradually inching down on him, taking him in rather easily while breathing through his nose. He pulled back and slipped back down again, starting a teasingly slow bobbing rhythm. Though even with his leisurely pace, he continued to get him further and further in, his gag reflex seeming not to work as he got the head to the back of his mouth, very, _very_ close to his throat.

“Fuck, James,” Wade breathed, a literal breathe. His name was just barely heard. He felt the hands on his face, one on his jaw and the other against his cheekbone, fingers just covering the bottom half of an ear. He tried to ignore them as well as everything else as he attempted to go deeper again, bobbing further and he swallowed, the contracting motion making the merc tense up for a second. James reached his free hand up and the other down, placing them on the man’s thighs, at the back to hold him still as he slipped down on him, getting closer and closer-

“ _Jesus- fuck_ , sorry,” James swiftly pulled back at the unintentional thrust and coughed lightly into Wade’s jeans, beside the still throbbing erection. He didn’t like that much, feeling choked.

“It’s fine,” his voice sounded deeper, grittier. And he leaned in again, not detoured by the previous accident and just returned to bobbing his head and getting further down on him again, slipping in the inches faster. He pulled all the way back to the head, sucking at it and then lowered as far as he could and then pulled back again. He could feel the merc straining, trying not to choke him by accident again, maybe. He was very lightly quivering, his muscles shaking just a bit.

He swiftly went down one more time, trying with a tad more effort to take him down. He’d swallowed, once and then twice and managed it, squeezing his eyes shut at the now present feel of his gag trying to protest. He’d ignored it in favour of hearing the hitch in Wade’s breathing again, letting the head of the shaft bump against the back of his throat.

At the spasming twitches he felt against his tongue, he pulled back, the warm liquid filling his mouth having not had the time to pull back all the way. He tried breathing through his nose and just let it pour over his tastebuds and gums, the harsh pants above him turning into one long one, as he he were relieved.

“ _Jeeeesus_ ,” the merc then breathed, the hands on his face shifting until his thumbs were on his cheekbones and they ghosted back and forth under his eyes, almost comfortingly, and James waited for a few seconds, seed in his mouth and he was sure that he was done blowing his load in between his lips.

He patted one of the hands and pulled back, awkwardly moving to stand on still firm legs before pulling his jeans up and turning away to spit the white stuff out. He waited a few seconds, continuing to spit and then buttoned himself up before turning to look over his shoulder at the zoned out looking merc.

“That was beautiful,” Wade dazedly stated, a crooked smirk on his face as he just stared at him and James was wondering why that expression was… still so alluring to him. He liked seeing it. “And you said you never played around with a guy before,” it was like he didn’t believe him or something. From the first time he jumped into bed with the merc, it was just that. His first time messing with a guy. Wade was his first in that area of sex. Sure, he was thinking that maybe he thought about it when he was Bucky, back in the early 1900s, but he didn’t remember any of it. So, technically, this was really his first, Wade was.

“I haven’t. Only you,” he confirmed his thoughts, shrugging along with the statement as he stepped close again and pocketed his arms. The merc had already zipped himself up, not even seeming like he’d just had sex or was given a blowjob.

“You really don’t know how much of a turn on that is,” the guy scoffed, still smirking at him, though it got just a bit wider. “I guess I was on point when I said ‘ _you’re body’s made for me_ ’,” he teased, an arm reaching out and slipping over his shoulders, directing them to the opening to the alley and making him walk.

“I guess,” he neither confirmed nor denied his words. He wasn’t completely sure. Obviously people weren’t _made_ for other people. They were just… people. But from what he could remember, all in all, no one had ever understood him, or managed to get through to him or make him feel so safe and calm. Steve, sure, but… he didn’t completely understand, he made that clear. And then Wade, he…

_You failed **their** mission. Not yours. Give yourself a mission, what do **you** want?_

He knew how to handle him, somehow knew how to calm him and stop him from thinking about HYDRA and all the bad for a moment. What did he want? He’d probably made a mistake by showing him, by kissing him. The man was… incredible to James and by now, he was sure that there was something wrong with him. By what he’d said, all that ‘I failed their mission’ talk. And the arm, he’d seen his hand, the metal. If he hadn’t put two and two together yet, he was a too oblivious or stupid, and he knew for a fact that the man wasn’t.

“I-...” he stopped walking abruptly, stopping Wade too, who looked back with a casual smile as he stared, so carefree. “How did-... how did you do that earlier?” James stared him dead in the eye. “Making me think that the mission I was given wasn’t actually mine,”

“I see it as a ranking thing,” he shrugged. “It was your higher-ups mission. They wanted him dead, they give the job to their pawns,” the merc huffed, his eyes then blinking fast and got closer, a hand up in surrender. “Which I don’t see you as, by the way,” he rushed out, thinking that he might’ve insulted him.

So, he saw every mission as not his, but one from his superiors. James guessed that it made sense if he thought about it in that way. Pierce had been the one giving him the missions, and they were all ones that eliminated opposing teams, Captain America included, Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. They had been targets, to be wiped so the Director of HYDRA could ascend. So HYDRA could ascend. He’d just been their _pawn_. Their heavy hitter, secret weapon, fist and _Asset_. He’d been nothing but a dangerous toy.

“Colonel Phillips called up mutts,” _where’d that come from_. He furrowed his brows, pointing them down in the centre. He was aware that Phillips had been their leader in WWII, he recalled him training him and the men. He’d been a piece of work, but he never remembered anything he’d said, and then… mutts. It was vague, but he could see him calling the troops that every morning, afternoon and night.

“I bet that’s the nicest thing he’d said,” Wade laughed, starting towards the streets again. Hell if he knew. He couldn’t even remember the man’s first name and here he was, thinking of a moment when he’d called them all mutts.

James’ senses kicked in as soon as they’d left the alley and walked into the streets. Eyes, he could feel them, strong, observant and he knew that they’d honed in on himself and definitely Wade. It was about time, though he very much regretted that he was with the merc when they finally found him.

“Stay calm, keep walking and laugh like I said something funny,” Wade’s words surprised him, but he easily composed and did just that, letting a smile widely stretch over his face and he forced a chuckle, the merc doing the same in response to James’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed. Let me know what you think and what you're favourite part was :) And I don't apologize for the 'sort of' cliffhanger :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!!!!!!!!! I got the next one up and it has something that was requested a while ago. I hope ya'll enjoy it and please let me know what you though!! :D
> 
> Also, maybe a handful more chapters and this will be over. Sorry to say :/

They’d headed to the bar, Sister-Margaret's, after that. Wade said that it was a crowded place, and he’d been thinking the same. Everyone inside was on the mercs side, they’d protect him, defend him. So, if they were attacked in there, their stalker would be screwed.

“We got a _10-14_ , Weasel,” he heard Wade say in a rush to the barkeep, leaning over the top to make sure that he’d heard. James watched for a second hearing a “ _Prowler, got it_ ,” as a response and he was then dragged off, the merc pulling him to a corner table, a bit hidden and out of the way of the main area of the bar. Thankfully, from where he was then sat down, he had a perfect view of the area. He could see the main door, the back door, the bar, Weasel and a load of other tables. Wade could as well. He chose that area for that view. He was trained that way.

“You know Cop-code?” he asked instead, leaning back against the padded bench with crossed arms and an unreadable expression. He was on guard, his training fighting its way to the surface and making him want to leave, to grab his things and go. What if they found his safehouse, where he still had his bags, his notebooks of memories. He was trying to distract himself. He needed to. He couldn’t think about it until he needed to and he didn’t need to right then and there, because he was safe in their corner of the bar.

“The more you know,” Wade gestured with a rainbow effect of his hands. He wasn’t surprised that he knew. From what he could tell, the man had been some form of Military type. His posture, hair style, morals, the way he knew how to categorize James’ missions. He knew what _missions_ were, he understood how the soldier thought and saw things and he knew their boundaries between each other. Wade knew how to _handle a soldier_. He seemed to know how to handle him. The merc must’ve been a seated officer in some way, or a rank high enough to have had to look after his men.

“What rank were you,” he asked quietly, sinking just that bit further into the seat while keeping his senses as sharp and aware as possible. Every now and again, his gaze would slip to different places in the room, something catching his eye before he’d return to surveying.

“Lieutenant,” was his flat reply. “Dishonourably discharged after I was blamed of foul play. I never actually corrected them that it was the other fuckin’ Lieutenant, but… whatever,” a dishonourable discharge for something he hadn’t done. It must’ve stung, must’ve burned at his core, even though he acted as if he felt nothing for it.

“I got a friend coming, one of the guys I worked with after all that shit, actually,” “He and his brother were a part of this group I was workin’ with. They called me Weapon-X,” James felt him shrug, like it was nothing. It just served to make the soldier a little more tense, his mind racing over the questions of ‘ _what if he was hydra?_ ’ and ‘ _why didn’t you say anything sooner?_ ’ and ‘ _what if he’s working for someone that wants them dead?_ ’. There were so many in his mind, and yes, a few were, maybe, an over-step in paranoia, but it was necessary when the Winter Soldier was involved. Paranoia was a needed character trait.

“Didn’t mention him on the way,” James casually mentioned, turning to glance at him sidelong to see the merc raise a brow at him, a scoff leaving his mouth before they both returned to stare into the crowd of drunken men.

“Because I didn’t think about it,” he’d replied calmly as he slouched against the seat and against him, their shoulders brushing and then rubbing as he relaxed against the former Winter Soldier. “Was sort of busy impaling you at the time,” the man added with pure amusement and tease in his tone and James let a smile pull at his lips, curving them into something that resembled a grin. He laughed lightly, the deep puffs leaving his lips and he then tilting his head to catch the mercs eye, seeing the gleam in them.

“I like hearing you laugh,” the sentence took him aback, surprised him. So, all he did was stare, watching the man with a warming gaze while he just did the same in return. It was only a split-second that James took to glance down and then back up, taking him in and Wade was kissing him, turned and pressed in close with his lips pushing hard against his own. He hadn’t flinched at all when he roughly connected and reconnected, over and over, almost panting and huffing over each other when they could manage to get a breath in.

James groaned quietly at the feel of the hot, wet tongue pressing in between his lips, the soldier just simply letting him in and feeling him wrap his scorching muscle around his own, brushing them together while playing a fierce game of twister. That was all he could really compare it to while being half distracted.

He felt Wade’s hand cup his face, tilting him a bit and getting another angle, to get a deeper feel of him, a deeper taste maybe. He complied and let him, his own hand slipping up and pressing against the back of his head, holding him in place. He was getting too used to this, too used to letting the merc take him and kiss him and treat him like any other guy, or any other guy he’d be this intimate with. He was getting to familiar with biting his lips and tongue whenever it was in his own mouth and feeling the merc press closer and slip a hand up the inside of his leg. He was getting too involved, too involved with a man he knew he’d have to leave soo-.

“Fags!” he heard from across the room and as soon as the word was registered, or even heard, Wade sighed to himself, breaking the lip-lock and they just stared at each other for a moment. Clearly, he was pissed, and maybe, so was everyone else in the bar. Because everything and everyone got that little bit quieter, like they were all focused on what was going on.

“Care to say that again?” Wade questioned rhetorically as he pushed himself up to his feet, turning to face the table of younger guys, newbies. He’d never seen them in this bar before, so they didn’t know who any of them were, he was sure. “Maybe to my face this time?” he stepped around the table and headed towards them in slow, intimidating strides. James let out a long huff and stood up as well, slower, calmer as he shrugged out of his jackets, until he was left in his long-sleeve, gloves and hoodie. He crossed his arms and stepped out from behind the bench and table, leaning back against it. He knew where this was going. Wade was no saint and he was more than sure that there were dangerous thoughts flattering around in that lackadaisical mind of his.

“There any point in trying to get the idea of _killing them_ outta your head?” the soldier asked the other, no edge or worry in his tone at all. He knew he wouldn’t stop him, wouldn’t be able to, not in this bar. As soon as he’d try, everyone else might stop him or if he managed to get the merc back, the others would jump the youths.

“Nope,” was his fast, bemused response, all careless and at too happy in their current situation. James wasn’t cheering him on, or even encouraging this. He’d play no part. He’d be at a disadvantage. He wouldn’t urge him or cheer him on, but nor would he stop him from doing what he knew how to do. Wade was his own man and he knew that the blood would be on his hands. James wouldn’t say a word.

“Okay,” he sighed, watching from where he stood against the table, staring at the one he was sure called them ‘fags’. The room was still quieting down, everyone now seeming to get what was going on and why the attention was drawn to one area of the bar.

“Wait! What!?” the kid he was staring at freaked out for a moment, abruptly standing from his seat, letting it fall behind him, the other two followed suit, but the circle of old-regulars closed in behind them, keeping them from running or moving away. From their point of view, they were as guilty as the main idiot.

“He’s not gonna kill us!” one of them called as if he were stating a fact, like he knew they wouldn’t, or was adamant on it. But it only solidified James’ earlier thought on them being very, _very_ new to this bar. They knew nothing of these men, whereas the soldier had had time to ease his mind on them and get to know them without saying a word. He’d become familiar with them.

“What’s that up there? On the wall behind the bar. What’s it say?” Vince, the Blackman _of the regular_ of the regulars questioned rhetorically, definitely having Wade’s back as of right now.

“De-dead… pool?” the main one of the three stuttered, glancing almost frantically between the board and the merc, and very occasionally, _him_. Which didn’t bring him any amusement or sadness. It was like he was hoping that he would stop him, but that, he couldn’t do. Not with everyone there and not with Wade in his current mindset. It’d also cause too much trouble and draw too much attention on him.

“Us here, we put money on who dies,” Buck, the big, old guy started up, explaining how they worked in the bar. He hadn’t actually been affected by that in the slightest. The Deadpool, the money bets on a friend dying that day. It was sad to say, but he remembered there being something similar going on in the 107th, back when he was Bucky. He remembered a few putting bets against each other. So the concept of a Deadpool, wasn’t new to him.

“What’s your name,” Wade spoke up, grinning at the guys like this was his type of fun. It wouldn’t have surprised him, considering where they were and where he’d actually met the man. He was crazy, along with his friends.

“Answer me,” he’d added deeply and very authoritatively feared, almost like he snarled at them. And they whimpered just that bit, shifting uneasily, and the kid again, looked at him for a split second. James swallowed unnoticeably and just stared back, watching them with a tick in his face, a tick that could’ve said of how _not-fond_ he was of this. But he didn’t want to blow any kind of cover.

“Ran... Randy,” the main one whimpered, almost shaking on the spot. He caught a shifting at the door, the very front door and he glanced over, his brow furrowing. The man, the one from the launderette. He was standing there, watching as everything was going down and he’d glanced his way, staring sidelong before dead ahead, to Wade and the group of newbies. What was he doing there? Was he their pursuer? Had he been following James?

“You hear that?” the merc called out across the bar. The soldier shot his gaze there and then to the bar, where Weasel was setting up a ladder.

“Already on it,” he’d called back, a piece of chalk in hand before he began the curve in the R of his name. And then more movement. He snapped his gaze back to the stranger, noting how he strode across the room and up behind the merc. James stood himself up from the table just as his hand reached out and slapped down on his shoulder, forcing him to turn.

“Startin’ the party without me, Bub?” James stopped, now standing a few feet from the spot he’d very recently been and he watched them, listened, and gradually shifted back against the table, leaning against it again, but with his arms uncrossed, in case, something did break out between them…

James had just played favourites…

He wouldn’t have done anything to save the guys, on the premise that it’d draw too much attention and yet, here he’d thought that he’d help Wade if something broke out between him and the stranger. Fighting, in both situations, and… He’s been bias, played a dirty hand. Wade had been about to kill them and James thought only of protecting the man if the other started a brawl. And the merc could easily handle himself.

“Logan!” James snapped back to attention just in time to see the merc turn swiftly around to embrace the man, arms swinging wide and about to hug him with a massive beam on his face.

“Don’t,” the other said firmly, a hand reaching up and holding out. It seemed that everyone was returning to whatever they were doing, with the boys instantly darting out of the building with dangerous eyes of the regular men watching them intently, a deadly glint and twitch clear in their faces.

“As old and as bastardly as ever, I see,” the merc smirked, his arms dropping heavily at his side. He then turned towards him, watching him with an odd warmth that James hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. He watched as they walked over, the stranger following behind Wade, but slowing as he got physically close, hand reaching out and resting at his sides, gradually sliding down until they were firmly held at his waist, just over his hips.

“Sweetheart,” the merc greeted as he tilted his head a bit lower to reach him, James tilting up so they were brushing lips, though they didn’t kiss. He didn’t initiate, though neither did Wade.

“Call me that again, and I’ll break you,” he retorted slow and tauntingly, knowing that it’d rile him up something fierce for later. Or he _maybe_ hoped that there was a later.

“Should I be lookin’ forward to it?” James scoffed and dropped his gaze, having to turn away to smile bemusedly and shake his head lightly. He was easily putting on the act for the merc, though if he hadn’t, he still would’ve huffed a laugh of some sort.

James continued to keep the smile on his face as he turned back to him and moved himself from the table, Wade following and taking a step or two back for him. They were standing and then the soldier turned his gaze to the stranger, his smile dropping just a bit to make it _seem_ as if he _was and wasn’t_ fond, a bit curious and cautious.

“Who’re you?” he asked as politely as he could act in his current situation, arms crossing tightly in a subconscious sense of defence, an automatic movement. And he could see the recognition in the motion in the man’s eyes, like he knew it, was very accustomed to it.

“Logan,” he’d greeted, his _left_ hand reaching out, palm up. He wasn’t left handed. He had his right hand on the door after coming in, he’d used his right hand for turning the Merc around. He was no left handed man.

He _knew_.

“And Wolverine,” Wade began. “And Jimmy… James-. Oh hey, you got the same names,” he babbled slightly, seeming happy or was trying to bring up the suddenly cold atmosphere around the soldier. He knew! Was he Hydra? Shield? Another Organization? He couldn’t let on, couldn’t make it seem like he was awar-... the merc, he’d called him Wolverine. The X-Men’s Wolverine? Charles Xavier's handpicked men. Was this the same man?

“Wolverine, as in-,” he began simply, his brows knitting in strong caution and curiosity.

“Yeah, metal claws, metal bones, and a Mutant,” he confirmed for him, sending him a crooked, lazy smirk. “Soldier,” he added, also confirming his suspicions all too strongly. He knew damn well who he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What d'you think? Enjoy? Let me know what you were thinking and what you liked the most and stuff. Also, you get a better look on why Wolverine's there!!!! The hint is in the chapter!!!!!!! :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter guys. Thank you all for joining me and reading this far with me!! :D

Only a few minutes alone with the man, sitting in silence and anxious thoughts, and he wanted to leave, to get up and out of the seat and go back to his safe-house, to see how safe it really was. He was more than sure that the mutant sitting next to him was there for more than Wade. Wade, who was now out with a few guys, checking over their area of town. Apparently, Wolverine hadn’t been the prowler that he was thinking he’d been. There was another out there, who’d followed them.

“Captain America’s lookin’ for you,” the mutant drew him from his thought, his voice calm, composed. He didn’t bother giving him a glance after registering the sentence. He already knew that the Avenger wanted him back, wanted to reunite and bring back a bond that was dead, in his opinion. If they became friends again, it’d be different. It wouldn’t be Steve and Bucky. Besides that, he didn’t want to, not yet. He was still messed up, still stuck on what to do with his mind in this state. He still needed help.

“I know,” he replied with, his gaze dropping just a bit at the thought. He’d eventually be able to, just-... not yet. Not now. If he was given a few months, hell, maybe a few weeks, he could do something positive about it.

“Don’t wanna see him?” the metal man asked simply, James hearing the faint physical shift. He then felt the eyes on him, and he figured that the mutant was looking at him, maybe searching and gauging him for any kind of reaction that would tell him something. He wasn’t sure if he was overthinking over maybe over-reacting to his every move. Probably was.

“None of your business,” James responded tightly, crossing his arms even tighter over his chest as he pressed himself further into the bench cushions. The eyes were firm, unyielding and trained. Military, like he and Wade. He had that air about him, like back in the launderette too.

“You’re not ready,” he continued and that was when he so very slowly turned his eyes to him, watching him with a just as strong and unwavering gaze. “I know the look on your face,” he gestured to him with a jut of his chin. He was still so calm and almost laid-back with every action and he was wondering as to how he could do it.

From notes and files, he knew this man through papers, everything HYDRA had on him and he’d soaked it up like a sponge. He was meant to be a weapon, not that different from him, but he broke loose, no brainwashing having been done to him. He got out and was a walking-talk, a weapon of his own and he seemed… at ease. The man was even older than him, way passed a hundred years old and he seemed almost untouched by torture and pain and everything that Striker had done to him. He didn’t seem broken.

“You do?” James asked softly, his eyes softer as well. He was genuinely curious. How could he understand the look when he looked as tamed and as calm as ever. He wanted to be able to be like that. To not seem like he was bothered by anything. He wanted to be able to see his friend without the worry or anxiety of nightmares, of HYDRA and SHIELD on his ass.

“The face of a guy who’s been on the frontlines for way too long,” frontlines… of war, of life. _In general_. There was no lie there, there was no over-exaggeration. “You think you’re not ready to go talk to him,” that was an _under_ -exaggeration. He really wasn’t ready to face Steve, and he’d thought this already, multiple times since leaving HYDRA. James needed to be fixed first.

“I’m not,” he replied honestly. The soldier eased up on the pressure he was forcing into the bench as he held himself against it, hearing the very faint creak of the weight lifting away from the wood under the cushions.

“That why you’re here?” the mutant gestured to the bar, again with his head while keeping firmly still in his place next to him, arms crossed loosely. Was it weird that he’d picked up on how they seemed similar in mannerisms? The way they sat, their positions and the way they seemed to physically gesture with a tilt in their head or a jut in their jaw? He remembered almost always doing it before he’d become the weapon.

“I’m still here because of Wade,” he knitted his brows, thinking almost defensively that he was really only still there because the merc was the only one that really saw him, knew how to handle him and treat him. He was there because Wade kept him functioning, kept him in James’ persona instead of the Soldier. The man kept him sane and was the only one that understood his issues, could maybe help by just… being there.

Though he was sure that more than a few understood. Wolverine being one, Hawkeye being the second, with that whole New York, alien invasion fiasco. The Black Widow, from the Red Room. Power-Man from Harlem maybe had a miniscule idea, having been tested on, and experimented on. These men, woman… they’d been through… hell. Like him. He wasn’t… that different.

“Romantically? That idiot really landed _you_?” James drew his gaze back to the mutant, having been lost for a second. They way he’d said ‘ _you_ ’ made it seem like he was surprised that the merc had somehow managed to get him into bed or something. Honestly, he had no clue about Romanticism. He knew the general idea, but he wasn’t sure about his feelings towards the man. He really liked him, he was overly fond, more so than he should be, considering who he was.

“I don’t know,” James shrugged laxly, his arms still crossed. He gradually turned his gaze around the bar, eyeing the patrons and old regulars. A few had left along with Wade and his small troop.

“Elaborate, Barnes,” he tossed his eyes back to the mutant, surprised by his surname being used. He watched him, stared, searched and saw the man’s eyebrow rise questioningly at him, asking silently to flesh out an answer, the one he gave.

“We’ve had sex, more than a few times and I’m getting attached,” he shrugged again, his tone growing a fraction in defence and he knew it was an audible defence because the mutant was staring at him, as if trying to decipher why he was acting up. James would’ve liked to have known as well, to at least try and ease himself, to compose himself enough to seem like the stoic soldier he normally was.

“Attached?” he really had to ask? He meant exactly what he said. That one word was descriptive enough for anyone to understand.

“I like being around him,” James explained anyway, shrugging and dropping his gaze to the ground ahead of him, under the table that was a few feet away after he’d been leaning against it earlier. “He’s honest with me, respects boundaries that I didn’t even set beforehand,” his brow knitted further. It was still odd how he seemed to know where his limit was, how far into the state of undress he would go.

“One of the few things he’s good at… is knowin’ someone’s boundaries. I’m thinkin’ he’d understand yours pretty easily,” Wade never saw his metal hand until he started removing the glove whenever they were in his home, letting him see the sheen of the metal from his knuckles and fingers. He’d never gotten as far as showing him anything from the wrist up. He’d felt it though, when he’d held him down the second time, by his biceps.

“Does he know?” he asked in general, his voice soft and quiet and it’d sounded more like he was distracted, away in his own thought. He’d had a few indications that he might’ve, but they were cleared up fast, and by Wade himself. Maybe to make it seem like he didn’t?

“Who you are?” Logan raised a brow, as asking him if that was what they were talking about. “More than likely,” he shrugged. True, it made a reveal a bit easier if he wanted to show the merc. And he did, he really wanted to show him who he was, what he was. It was just-... hard. It was something that actually… not scared him, but… _unnerved_ him? Made him jittery and twitchy at the thought? “He’s not stupid, even he acts it a majority of the time,” he assumed that. James had a thought that he wasn’t stupid from the first time he'd leant him a shirt. He’d been discrete, asked nothing of why he wanted him to turn around when they’d just had great sex. He seemed aware, maybe a little more so after seeing his hand.

“Why are you here, really,” he asked the man, side-eyeing him again, watching carefully as the brow rose higher and then dropped as he looked away. “You didn’t just come around to hang out with an old friend,” James added after the few moments of silence.

It was maybe almost obvious. Was it a coincidence that he saw the man in the same launderette earlier when there was several between the bar, his safe-house and laundry-building? And he knew Wade, more so than James did, and that he was an X-men. It drew questions, more reasonably paranoid questions.

“Good senses, I’d expect nothing less,” the mutant clicked his tongue, his more professional side seeming to appear as he seemed to drop his gig. He turned his eyes back to him, now searching, scrutinizing him lightly after the compliment. “It’s part of the reason,” James knew it, he inwardly smirked in mild success.

“And the rest of it?” he narrowed his gaze just enough to seem dangerously suspicious, which he was. An X-Men finding him? Not a coincidence. Wolverine being the finder? A mutant who could take him in a fight by just healing, his physicality, and using those metal claws of his? No coincidence. He was sent to find him, or found out where he was and sent himself. Why.

“Rogers came around to Xavier’s school not too long ago,” Steve… go figure. “Thinkin’ that maybe his old buddy would be there askin’ the old man for a way to fix his head, to get this Winter Soldier side of him out,” he… honestly, never thought of that. An incredibly strong telepath and mind-meddler could more than likely have helped him if he thought that far into his options. Charles Xavier… the head of the School for _Gifted_ Children.

It didn’t seem that farfetched for Steve to have gone there then. It was… a clear option he could’ve thought on. It’d help him. If he said yes, then he’d have been in the clear until Steve showed up. He was sort of glad he didn’t go actually.

“I’m guessing after he didn’t find me there, he asked you to keep an eye out,” James sighed, reaching a hand up to thread through the hair that’d fallen into his line of sight. It made sense that he’d have asked the Professor and his teachers to keep their eyes out for him. It made him then think that maybe Logan had found him because of Xavier. Maybe he’d been the one to send him.

“Yeah,” the mutant confirmed. “After he left, Xavier went about lookin’ for you through Cerebro,” he wasn’t too sure what Cerebro was, but he’d had the affirmation that the man had sent this mutant after him. “Said he found you with an old friend of mine,” Wade. Wade was the old friend. James let out another sigh and loosened the arms crossed over his chest. He was gradually becoming less tense with the seemingly straightforward answers. It didn’t seem like anyone else was aware. Only Xavier and Logan… and Wade. The three weren’t the type to announce any of this, his whereabouts, specifically.

“So you came to talk? To tell me about Steve and what he was doing?” he already knew what the Captain was doing, it was why he tended to move regularly. It was a surprise he was still in this part of New York. He hadn’t seen anything on the Star-Spangled in some time.

“The guy’s tearing up New York lookin’ for you, Bub,” he hadn’t teared up this area yet, thankfully. Though, all that meant was, he hadn’t been there yet, it was a matter of time. It also meant that he needed to get his things in order and then switch to another part of New York to keep the trail hidden.

James swallowed thickly, thinking on it, fleshing out where he’d go net and what Safe-house hadn’t been seen to by agents of HYDRA and SHIELD. He was sure a majority of them had been checked after the Triskelion fell, all that information and hiding spot and all of his information was leak. It was a wonder that no one had seen him recently, no one had reported his appearance.

“Listen, I don’t know the guy, I don’t know Steve Rogers or Captain America,” clearly. Barely anyone knew him after returning from the ice. He could imagine that. From what he’d deduced, he’d only been out of the ice for a few years and hadn’t really talked with anyone about his past, his thoughts and feelings and all that. “His friends do, you do,” Everyone only knew Steve by what they’ve read in the Smithsonian. He was as unknown as James Buchanan Barnes in this time. “It’s the reason why I got in contact with one of our friends in common,” James tensed again, his gaze narrowing darkly on the man.

“You what…” his tone was flat, almost responding like he would to one of his superiors as the Winter Soldier.

“Don’t worry, kid,” _kid…?_ He was no damn child… well… how old was the Wolverine. He’d been in WWI, right? “I know this guy, I’ll bet not that well, but he came around to the school a few times. Taught a few classes, talked with Xavier. He had some help from him a while ago, after the alien shit,” _He…_ and _alien-shit_ being the battle of New York against Loki, that Asgardian Trickster God. He had to either be a SHIELD Agent, or an Avenger then.

And if he’d gotten in-touch with him, he assumed that the man was already aware and was maybe the one following he and Wade before.

“I take it, he was the 10-14?” he eyed him sharply, guardedly.

“Yeah,” the mutant relaxed into his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed, and like I said in the top notes, the next chapter may be the last. :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. I really hope you enjoyed this story and read along with as much enthusiasm!!! xD

“You sure you wanna talk with him?” Wade asked for the fifth time after leaving the bar. He and Logan explained what had happened, James having been a tad more reluctant and he’d watched as the mutant spoke with the Avenger over the phone before he left the building to head back to his safehouse. It’d been one of his conditions, that they talk in private and in the somewhat safety that was his hideout. The others had been ‘come alone’, ‘no weapons’ and ‘no stalling’. He didn’t want to be there longer than necessary and he didn’t want it coming down to a fight.

“No,” obviously. He wanted to get away and out of their reach, as far as he could, but Logan assured him that this man wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like.  _ He was just there to help _ . To somehow get him to a place where he could bare everything. “I want nothing to do with the Avengers and SHIELD, but it’s not gonna go away just because I want it to, or because I’m pretty damn good at hiding,” Steve was still out there, trying to find him while tearing through the massive city. “They’re gonna keep trying, no matter what I want or need,” they being Steve, SHIELD and HYDRA. In all honesty, Steve finding him before the two organizations was a better and safer option, but he… he still wasn’t ready and he wasn’t sure he ever would be unless he had the specific type of help he needed.

“Got a cubbyhole back at my place,” the merc smirked, chuckling lightly at his own suggestion. James let a smile tug at his own lips, curving the corners upwards. Trust him to make a joke out of a viable option that he’d spent years unwillingly doing in a HYDRA base.

“I’m not hiding in a hole for the rest of my life, but thanks for the offer,” he replied almost sarcastically, tilting his head a fraction to the side. He could see the thoughtful expression crossing the mercs face, seeming to want to ask something else. There was a silent moment between them and James waited patiently, the expression still pasted on his face.

“Want me to hang around?” he sounded unsure, like he wasn’t certain he should’ve asked or not. It made a bit more sense now that he was sure that the man knew who he was. Like ‘ _ should he be asking the Winter Soldier if he felt safer with him around _ ’ kind of thing. 

“I got it. He’s not gonna hurt me or call SHIELD in,” Logan reassured him of that and the agreement that there would only be James and the man that had followed them. No one else would get involved or get into trouble this way and he didn’t want Wade to end up picking a short straw in the soldiers situation. It wouldn't end well and HYDRA  would go through anyone to get to him. He was sure that SHIELD would too.

“Well… when you get done, bring that gorgeous ass of yours back to my apartment,” by now, he understood that the merc had a thing for his rear. He commented on it a majority of the time and it was always the kind of comments that brought a warm flutter to his chest

“That ‘n order?” James flicked a brow coyly at him, smirking. It was odd, their dynamic. The way they talked with each other now. He’d only just realized that he seemed to tease and joke in reply, and about orders and ranks, military musing. Though, Wade had never actually ordered him to do anything, not in a serious way. Not in the Winter Soldier way or the way HYDRA would’ve told him to do something and he hadn’t ordered him around in general. 

“Damn straight it is,” Wade teased, getting much closer to wrap an arm around his waist and tug them together until their hips were against each other. He’d felt his lips taking his own for a moment, a subtle and short peck. 

“I’ll swing by later,” James replied softly after he’d pulled back. They still weren’t in clear, not completely, or at all, really. He was still worried about getting caught by the two organizations and the Avengers. But he’d eased up on his paranoia, toning back his suspicions and aggression that went hand-in-hand. 

“You better,” Wade grinned, patting his hip with the palm of his hand before he seemed to reluctantly pull back, his hands lingering before dropping. “See ya,” he waved, James responding with one of his own before the merc turned around and darted away. He’d made sure that they’d stayed outside for this, for the bit of chatting before James would have to enter the building and then his own safe-house, where he knew the other man was waiting. 

He huffed, turning his gaze on the building, staring up at it with displeasure. He shook his head and decided to walk in through the front doors, instantly taking a leap up the first few stairs and then casually walking the next two flights. Once at his door, he paused, listening in. The room was silent, too quiet for him, like no one was there. But he could feel the presence behind the thick wood. He was there.

James reached out for the handle and slowly turned it, opening the door before stepping over the threshold. He instantly saw the man by the window, staring into the room, seeming to have been waiting on him with a casual, crooked smirk on his lips. He gradually closed the door behind him, and by the look on the man’s face, it’d been what he’d been waiting for.

“Soldier,” Clint Barton. A.k.a, Hawkeye. “Or do you prefer Bucky?” he greeted in his own way. The soldier in-turn watched him guardedly, eyeing him carefully as he stepped just that bit further into the room to take his layers off. His jacket first, his cap next. He was slower with his gloves, keeping his metal hand further away, just in sight for safety purposes.

“James,” he replied flatly, emotionlessly. It was all he’d said as his reply, nothing else left his lips as he continued to watch the Avenger with overly sharp eyes. The man seemed as casual as ever, his posture laidback, as if he wasn’t in the same room as the Winter Soldier. He didn’t seem at all threatening or threatened by his presence. And he really didn’t seem ready for a fight if it came to something like that, if something triggered a fist fight. James was certain that the archer knew he wouldn’t be able to take him in hand-to-hand, let alone fight with any other weapon. 

“Alright, James,” the Avenger tilted his head a fraction, his eyes sharp, in contradiction to his physically lax posture. “You’re a bastard to track. Hell, you gave Nat a run for her money,” Nat. He assumed he was talking about his spy partner, his right hand, the Black Widow. Natasha Romanov. She’d come close a few times. She was good, but he was better. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about his near close encounters with the woman.

“Get to the point,” the soldier replied flatly, rounding the sofa with a cautious air about him. He was sure that the archer wouldn’t try anything, Logan had assured him of that. So, he’d at least be cooperative, to a point. That point being, less guarded than usually. Though, he couldn’t actually be that. He acted the part instead. 

“Look, I’m only here for the Cap and Logan. One wants you back, the other thought I could help,” James already knew this. He stepped just a bit closer, now standing in front of the sofa with his arms forced at his sides. He pushed himself to sit down, at least trying to seem maybe a tad relaxed or calm. He was easily composed, but it was hard to actually seem as casual as the archer was at the time. 

“Can you?” the soldier questioned as he held himself back against the cushions, still watching the man carefully. He was reluctant, overly sceptical and the feelings grew the more he watched the Avengers face and body. The man had an upturn in the corner of his mouth, like he was trying not to smile or something and it was making him question whether or not this was the best decision. 

“Maybe. It’s a fifty-fifty shot from my perspective,” he’d shrugged, causing a crease to knit in the soldier browline. Fifty-fifty… it wasn’t promising, but it wasn’t hopeless either. That was the thought that passed through his mind that the words. There was and wasn’t a chance he could be helped? 

“Elaborate,” James asked calmly, his voice quieting just a bit. He was trying to keep an open mind in this encounter, trying to let him explain himself and his reasoning for being there and staying to talk to him about ways that could maybe work in his favour. He was  _ really  _ trying. 

“I guess you could say, we went through something similar, but my experience pales in comparison,” he wouldn’t compare what they had, what had happened. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure on what he was actually talking about, where and why, the what. James tilted his head a fraction, quietly questioning him without the archers awareness. The soldier kept it to himself, not wanting him to elaborate on that particular thing. That  _ thing  _ being, if they went through the same thing, he’d have to think about the mind-wiping, the mental control and not being able to break free from their grasp. It was a horror movie for him, and if it was  _ that _ , then he didn’t want to talk or think about it. “I was under for a day at least and you were under for seventy years,” … the damn Avenger. Under… he was  _ under _ . Mentally. Mind Control. James was thinking about it. He glanced down at his hands forced to rest on his thighs, staring at the metal and the flesh and internally shook himself of the memories for the moment. 

“Your point…” he tried to steer the conversation back to the main plot of his presence. He didn’t want to talk or think of even remember it all. He didn’t want to think that anyone else went through a similar experience, regardless of it being such a short time. It was a nightmare, an array of nightmares. It was a terror and horror and he didn't want to acknowledge it.

“If I suggested the same thing I went through to fix my head, it would take way longer,” like he cared about time. He’d already spent a lifetime in that icebox. He was sure that if he hadn’t have fallen from the train, hadn’t have become the Winter Soldier, he’d either be in hospital on his deathbed, with family, a wife, children. Or he’d already have died from old age. James was 99 years old, including all these years together. He was older than Stan Lee, a man he’d met during the war. He was a friend at the time, a great man. From what he read up on, he became a comic writer. MARVEL or whatever. “You’ll need to be worked on for weeks, months, maybe even years,”

“As long as it gets rid of what’s in my head, I don’t care how long it’ll take,” James answered honestly, shrugging lightly in response to his words. He really couldn’t have cared less about any of it. Time was irrelevant. He wanted the trigger out of his head, no matter how long it took to do so. He wanted to be at least a little free, to make his own decisions, and get his life back in order. He didn’t want to have to keep looking over his shoulder, waiting for some HYDRA agent to start reciting the sequence that triggered his monster. James wanted to live, and at least smile without the thought that he was endangering the ones he loved… loved… Wade was… he was the only one he really even thought of while thinking of that word. Did he love Wade?

“And what about the pain? I’ll admit that it hurt,” James broke himself from his thoughts, stuck for a second in silence as he registered what the archer had said. 

“I don’t care,” his tone was sharp, clear. He swallowed subtly, without the Avenger seeing it, thankfully. His little slip into a distraction. “I need the trigger gone,” he added with the same attitude as he pushed himself to stand, trying to seem casual while he turned and stepped away from the couch. He walked around to the back of it and crossed his arms over the tall back, leaning there and actually looking like he wouldn’t attack.  _ He seemed casual _ . 

“Then… I guess we’re on the same page here,” Barton grinned, his expression seeming all the more open and friendly. He reminded him of a happy-go-lucky dog, all excited and raring to go with whatever was happening. Was he always like this? Like some happy pooch? 

“What’s your suggestion?” James cut in the archer’s excitement, questioning him with a serious yet calm exterior. He was still really guarded, but at least he didn’t seem it as much as before. 

“Charles Xavier,” made sense he guessed. The man was… by far, the most intelligent, the mental strength he had. A mutant,  _ The  _ telepath. If… if anyone could help with a mental issue, it was that man. Why hadn’t he thought of the mutant before? He could’ve asked for help and the man would’ve more than likely accepted the challenge. The man wouldn’t have turned away a man in need, regardless of said man being human, or a brainwashed HYDRA agent. “I’ll let Logan know, that a’right?” James nodded slowly, thoughtfully, the idea of there being a sliver of a chance to get the trigger out was making him… lighter. There was a weight being lifted, very slowly. 

“Don’t tell Steve, not yet,” he suddenly blurted, a mild panic hitting him at the thought that Steve would be there waiting on him. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t sure he would be until he was triggerless and safe, having recovered from whatever he assumed the mutant would do if he’d help him.

“Understood,” Barton replied as he pushed himself from the windowsill and gradually made him leave across the room, James watching him closely. “But just so you know,” he stopped mid-step and turned to him. “I will when I think you’re ready,” from the sentence, the way he’d said it. It made him think that Barton wanted to be there. A guard maybe? For Xavier? Would he oversee him through or outside of the treatment? And… he’d tell the man when he thought James was ready. So Steve being there at some point was an inevitability. 

“See ya ‘round, Terminator,” the fuck was a terminator? He knew the word, understood it, but the way he’d said it made it sound like a nickname. 

“I don’t get the reference,” he replied with a flat tone, almost deadpanning.

“You will,” the archer laughed as he continued in his stride, heading straight towards the front door to his safe-house. Though, not before stopping with his grip on the handle. “Oh and-uh… good catch. Wade’s a pretty awesome guy,” he then opened the door and left, closing it behind him. James stared, watching the wood closely while he just stayed there, solid, still like a statue. Maybe… he’d finally get a chance at peace with this. Finally get a chance at some kind of normality, and with Wade. Would the man go with him to the school? Or would there be another facility for them to use? He wasn’t sure, but maybe he’d finally get some kind of… life from it. He was… hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did. I was planning on ending it with sex again, but I figured something hopeful was a good end. I plan on adding an epilogue way later. With Wade and James, just those two, maybe a Xavier Cameo and stuff xD Www and maybe Stan Lee xD


End file.
